


Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again

by sagansjagger



Series: She was Certainly the Spark for All I've Done [6]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Acts Like a Cat, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir and Food, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Child Abuse, Cognitive Dissonance, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fear, Feed Adrien Agreste, Fluff and Angst, Good Parents Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, No Smut, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 94,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagansjagger/pseuds/sagansjagger
Summary: The healing process is always meant to be gentle and slow, like the soft closing of a door in contrast to its slam. With the help of Dr. Pemberley, Marinette, and his friends, Adrien is recovering. Slowly. Steadily.Growing up sometimes means growing apart. For Adrien specifically, growing up has meant learning who he can trust... as well as who he can't. With his ever-cold father leaving him unexpectedly for a business trip and Hawkmoth ramping up to the next level, it's only natural something has to give eventually.And truths, no matter how long hidden, have to come to light. And when the truth is about his own father, how is Adrien supposed to take that? And manage it along with the exhaustion that comes from being the Superhero of Paris?But here's a secret that Adrien is still figuring out: he's stronger than he thinks. And there's no way he's going down without a fight.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Nino Lahiffe, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Nathalie Sancoeur, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Plagg, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: She was Certainly the Spark for All I've Done [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710568
Comments: 606
Kudos: 186





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missnoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missnoodles/gifts), [sseagully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sseagully/gifts), [Kasienda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasienda/gifts).



> A minor note before we begin: Welcome! I am so pleased to have you as a reader. If you’ve come directly from And He's Gotta Be Fresh from the Fight, I’m so glad, thank you for supporting my work! But even if you haven’t, please allow me to greet you for the first time.
> 
> I would highly recommend reading the previous fics in the Spark series before jumping into this one. I know they're a huge commitment, 60k and 90k words respectively! But you will most likely be lost if you jump right into Heart. (That being said, don't let me discourage you! If you want to read it as a standalone, feel free!)
> 
> For all my readers, as always, please heed the tags. This story earns its Angst with a Happy Ending tag and the Emotional/Psychological Abuse tag. 
> 
> Like Fight and Crash, this fic is frustrating. It's painful. Adrien and Marinette are dating, and while their relationship has improved, Marinette is still holding back a huge, make-or-break secret. Adrien dissociates his identity through most of the fic.
> 
> And Gabriel features prominently. Crash's antagonist was starvation. Fight's dual antagonists were Lila and miscommunication in Adrien and Marinette's relationship. Heart's antagonist is the big bad himself, Gabriel/Hawkmoth. 
> 
> If, at any point, you become too uncomfortable with the direction the story is going, dear reader, then please feel free to stop reading. I would not be offended in any way if you made this decision for yourself. I don’t want to chase you off, but I want you to be forewarned before diving in.
> 
> That being said, thank you for reading! I appreciate each and every one of you. On with the show!
> 
> -Cass

Ladybug slammed Adrien up against the wall of her room in the bakery, hoisting him up by his armpits so she’d have better access to his mouth. Gasping, he gladly wrapped his legs around her waist, grasping onto her tightly despite her ability to easily hold him aloft. 

He moaned against her lips, eyes fluttering closed as she licked his teeth, shooting fire throughout his body. His chest felt tight while pressed against hers, and the Eiffel Tower pendant that he’d given her for their anniversary of getting their miraculous dug into his breastbone. The cherry blossom ring that he’d given her for her fifteenth birthday rested on her pinky finger.

Focused on her lips moving against his, Adrien’s heart rattled around in his ribs. His arms clung to her neck, pulling her closer, closer, closer… 

Making out with Ladybug always sent thrills through Adrien. She was his fantasy. They’d only been secretly dating for four and a half months, but so much had happened since then. 

But Adrien didn’t have the headspace to think about all of that. After maneuvering him into the position she’d wanted him in, Ladybug tore her lips away from his mouth and ambushed his neck, licking and sucking. He gasped and threw his head back against the wall, exposing his throat for her.

“D-Don’t leave a mark,” he said, panting. She laughed darkly against his skin, and drew her hot tongue up from his collar to the underside of his chin, curling his toes.

“Why not?” she said, and he knew she was teasing by the lilt of her voice. “It’s not like you’re modeling anymore.” And then she gently--very gently--bit him.

Adrien hissed. “B-Because,” Adrien said, gasping again as she sucked on his neck, “there’s a very good reason, but--” She bit him again, harder, and he groaned. “--but I can’t think of it right now.”

Ladybug chuckled. “Don’t worry, Kitty,” she purred in a low voice. “I know what I’m doing.”

 _Yes, you do, little mouse,_ Adrien thought, before a long, drawn-out suckle practically obliterated his ability to think. He moaned, pressing his back against the wall, even as she crushed his hips against it. 

Just when Adrien was about to scream from the delicious, wet pressure of her tongue and lips, a knock sounded on the trap door. “Marinette?”

Ladybug pulled back from him, eyes wide. “Spots off,” she whispered, and the red transformation light flowed down her body, revealing Tikki. The kwami phased into the cabinet that she lived in, where Plagg was waiting. Without super strength, Marinette almost dropped Adrien. 

Adrien quickly untangled his legs from around his girlfriend's waist and stood on the floor next to her, scrubbing his kiss-swollen lips with the back of his bare wrist. He missed the black, paw print wristbands Marinette had given him for their anniversary of receiving their miraculous. He couldn’t wear them as Adrien, however, as she’d given them to Chat, and Alya had taken pictures of them for the Ladyblog.

“Yes, Maman?” Marinette called. Adrien was still panting, and he struggled to catch his breath so he could be presentable for Marinette’s mother. “What is it?”

The trapdoor popped open. Sabine gave the two teenagers a knowing smile. “It’s dinnertime. Adrien, will you be joining us?”

“Yes, please,” Adrien said, beaming at her despite the heat of embarrassment flooding his cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss out on your and Tom’s cooking for the world.”

Adrien wasn’t supposed to be joining the Dupain-Chengs for dinner. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to Marinette at all. His father had expressly forbade such months ago, when Adrien begged him to let him date her. 

He was supposed to be eating dinner with Kagami this Friday evening, on a playdate that his father had arranged to socialize him with the ‘right’ people. His ex-girlfriend--and still good friend--had happily covered for him.

Thinking about dinner always made him nervously reconsider his New Stash, a literal stash of perishable foods under his bed. He was always worried about having enough to eat.

“Glad to hear it,” Sabine said, smile broadening. “I’ll see you downstairs.” She retreated down the steps, leaving the trapdoor open for them to follow.

Marinette stared at Adrien. Adrien stared at Marinette. 

He laughed, but she didn’t. “That was too close,” she chided, frowning.

“It was,” Adrien agreed, rubbing the back of his head. “Maybe we should limit make outs to when I visit you on Thursdays as Chat?”

Marinette tapped her chin. “Maybe. But you know Plagg won’t let you make out in the suit.”

Adrien huffed. “I’ll detransform first, of course.”

“Once a week won’t be nearly enough,” Marinette said, looking at him with hooded eyes. The expression jump-started his heart again.

Adrien groaned. “I know. But we’ll have to figure that out later--your mom wants us downstairs for dinner.”

“We can’t go to dinner now,” Marinette said, pursing her lips. “You’re a mess.” She smoothed a hand over his hair. “No marks, though, as promised.”

“Oh,” Adrien squeaked, feeling an even hotter blush rise in his cheeks. “Your mom has already seen, and even as traditional as your dad is, I’m pretty sure he knows what we’ve been up to.” 

Marinette’s cheeks glowed cherry red at that. She turned away from him, seeming reluctant to do so. He followed her downstairs, wondering how much of a mess he looked. He straightened his hair and his collar on the way down.

While Adrien had successfully kept his and Marinette’s relationship a secret from his father, Tom and Sabine were allowed to know. But Marinette hadn’t told them that she and Adrien were dating until about three months in, which still bothered Adrien. 

Now, her parents had adopted Adrien as family, just like they’d adopted Chat. The catboy superhero had a standing date every Monday with the Dupain-Chengs to play Le Donjon de Naheulbeuk, his favorite board game. 

As Adrien and Marinette arrived at the dining table, Tom smiled at them. Sabine was puttering around in the kitchen. 

“Hello, Adrien!” Tom greeted. “Fancy seeing you here.” The large man gave the two teenagers a sly look. “And here I thought you wouldn’t want to leave Marinette’s room. What on earth could you be doing up there?”

“Papa!” Marinette said, slapping her hands over her rapidly-reddening cheeks.

Adrien choked. “I-It’s not what you think--”

“I’m just giving you a hard time, sweetie pie,” Tom said, his eyes twinkling. Then he fixed Adrien with a stern look. “And you don’t know what I’m thinking, son. Which is that you two should be careful.”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” Adrien said, directing his gaze to the floor.

Sabine entered the room from the kitchen, carrying a casserole dish of lasagna, Adrien’s favorite meal from her. She often made it for Chat--and eating with Chat’s enhanced senses was an _experience_ \--but he was happy to have some as Adrien.

As the family--plus Adrien--ate, Marientte’s parents peppered the two teens with questions about their school days and whether they liked their teachers. Summer break had just ended three weeks ago, and Marinette and Adrien both attended lycee at Dupont’s combined campuses.

“I really don’t like Monsieur Legrand, my homeroom teacher,” Adrien admitted shyly, digging into his third slice of lasagna, using his fourth piece of garlic bread to scoop the noodles onto his fork. He always ate fast nowadays. “Unlike Madame Bustier, he’s not into any ‘touchy-feely drivel.’ His words, not mine. Sorry for the crudeness.”

“It’s fine, Adrien,” Sabine said, lacing her fingers under her chin. She was working on her second helping of lasagna, but she and Tom had both been made aware that Adrien and their daughter could each pack away an entire family-sized, two-liter casserole dish of the food if they were allowed to. Thankfully, Marinette’s parents never questioned the teenagers’ amped up metabolisms, which came from being miraculous holders.

Adrien had actually gotten into quite a bit of trouble at the beginning of the year because of that metabolism and the exercise he’d been getting as Chat. Due to his restrictive modeling diet, he’d literally starved, losing massive amounts of weight and passing out in front of Marinette--as both Adrien and Chat. That had led her to figuring out his identity. 

She’d brought him second dinner and second lunches on scheduled days of the week, and his father had increased his calories twice based on a doctor’s recommendation. But Adrien hadn’t wanted Marinette to run herself ragged cooking for him, so he’d started an Instagram account as Chat and endorsed restaurants that gave him free meals. The account had exploded in popularity practically overnight, so Chat had his pick of eateries around the city. 

“So, Adrien,” Sabine continued, smiling at him, “how’s your father? Do you think we should meet him now that you’ve been dating Marinette for so long?”

Marinette choked on her food. Sabine patted her back. Tom’s eyes widened. “Are you okay, Marinette?” her father said. 

“Fine, fine,” she said, mainlining her hot cinnamon spice orange tea. “Please continue, Adrien.”

Adrien had paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. He set it down. “Actually, my father is extremely busy with the Milan fashion week shows. He’s been preparing the Gabriel brand’s spring and summer collection since June, and this being September, the show is almost on top of him.”

Sabine blinked. “Isn’t that next week?”

“Yes,” Adrien said, fixing his gaze on Marinette. What he had to say next was very important and just for her. “My father will be flying out to Italy next Wednesday for a month, but I’ll be staying behind, as I’m no longer one of his models.”

_Chat won't leave Ladybug to fight alone._

Seeming to get the message, Marinette nodded.

Tom beamed at Adrien. “Then we’ll have to have you over for dinner again. Before tonight, we hadn’t seen you in months,” Tom said, taking a drink of his tea. “You’re Marinette’s boyfriend! You shouldn’t be a stranger, son.”

Every time Tom called Adrien son, his heart swelled a little more. “Thank you, Mons--er, Tom!”

“Of course, Adrien.” Tom chuckled. “We love you.”

Smiling, Sabine dished out another slice of lasagna for him.

“You know I do,” Marinette whispered, with a shy smile.

Tears welled in Adrien’s eyes. He didn’t want to cry. He wanted to be happy and show his new family how glad he was to be included. He scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “ _Thank you,_ Sabine. Tom. Marinette,” the boy said, his voice cracking. “I… I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien lies to his father at dinner. Afterwards, Adrien's aunt visits.

“How was dinner last night, Adrien?” Gabriel said, dabbing at his lips with a white cloth napkin. The man had surprised Adrien by speaking. Usually their infrequent dinners passed in abject silence. 

Adrien had also been surprised that his father had bothered to schedule dinner with him at all--and had stuck to that appointment, despite making it three weeks ago with Nathalie. Adrien had checked. Milan fashion week was almost upon them, and Gabriel was up to his ears in work managing the brand. Now that he’d allowed Adrien to quit modeling, the boy almost never saw the man.

“Dinner was good, thank you,” Adrien said politely. He had been ostensibly eating dinner at Kagami’s on Friday, but she’d covered for him to eat at Marinette’s with the Dupain-Cheng family. _I owe Kagami so much,_ Adrien thought. _Maybe I’ll knit her some fingerless gloves once I improve enough?_

“Hmm,” Gabriel hummed, his way of acknowledging Adrien’s comment. “What did you eat?”

 _Lasagna._ “Sushi,” Adrien replied, having checked with Kagami prior to leaving her house. “I especially liked the futomaki rolls. Pickled radish is one of my favorite foods. Cucumber, too. And the bamboo shoots were amazing.”

“You also like crab, as I recall,” Gabriel said. Adrien was stunned. He didn’t expect his father to remember anything about what he liked, much less a favored food. 

“Yes,” he said carefully. “Don’t you, Father?”

Gabriel set his cloth napkin down on the table. “I do, but I’ve eaten quite a bit of crab lately, so it’s not to my tastes at the moment,” Gabriel said, gesturing to his plate full of crab legs steamed in lemongrass and ginger.

That was true; Adrien had been eating a lot of the shelled invertebrate lately. He hadn’t stopped to question that; if a food fit in his meal plan that his doctor had made, that’s what Chef cooked for him. And apparently, Gabriel had eaten crab as well. Adrien didn't know that they ate the same dinners all the time, but it made sense.

“You control what Chef cooks,” Adrien pointed out. “Why have you allowed him to make so much seafood?"

"I asked him to because crab has a lot of health benefits. I want you healthy," Gabriel said, picking up one of the orange claws on his plate and cracking it open using a knife and a crab mallet, in a hammer and chisel maneuver. 

Gabriel was rich enough to have someone else open his crabs for him, but Adrien knew his father liked doing so. He liked to crush things, he’d said. Gabriel placed the white meat into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and continued speaking. "I also requested seafood because you like it."

Adrien stared at him, eyes wide open. Just when Adrien had started to doubt that his father cared for him at all, the man had shocked him once again. 

Gabriel had cut Adrien off from his friends during the entire recent summer break, after Lila had tattled on the boy. She’d showed Gabriel pictures proving that Adrien had gone on a date with Marinette after being forbidden to do so. Over the summer break, Gabriel had arranged playdates with Chloé and Kagami, encouraging Adrien to pursue either Mademoiselle Tsurugi or Mademoiselle Rossi romantically--but not Mademoiselle Bourgeois, as Gabriel found her parents to be ghastly.

And now his father was paying attention to Adrien’s likes and dislikes, however small. _Curse him,_ the boy thought, frowning as he sat across from Gabriel at the dinner table. _I never know if he wants me to love him or hate him._

“Father,” Adrien whispered, deciding to take a risk. _If you truly care for me..._ “Why won’t you let me see my friends?”

“You have friends already,” Gabriel said, plucking more meat out of the claw. He popped some into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then he reached for his cloth napkin and dabbed at his lips. “Mademoiselles Tsurugi and Bourgeois are perfectly acceptable friends.”

Adrien clenched his fists under the table. He heard Nino's voice in his head: "Harsh. Uncool." Adrien agreed.

Adrien was just glad that his father didn’t bring up Lila. Not that the boy expected him to. Ever since Lila had forced her tongue into Adrien’s mouth during a photoshoot that past summer, Gabriel had shoved her out of her modeling career and had her blacklisted across all of Europe. Adrien also had a sneaking suspicion that his father was the one behind Lila’s sudden disappearance from school--rumor had it that she’d been expelled or needed to transfer. Adrien had seen neither impressive hide nor sausage hair of Lila since.

After he'd accidentally Cataclysmed Volpina as Chat, that is. She didn't remember how she'd died, but she remembered enough to panic around the catboy superhero when he'd visited her at her apartment to apologize. He still had nightmares about fox girls dissolving into ash.

How Gabriel had handled Lila's assault was another point in his favor, indicating to Adrien that the man cared. But Gabriel was still controlling Adrien's social life. He was barely able to sneak out as Chat and visit Marinette on Mondays and Thursdays, when she fed him second dinners to keep up with his speeding bullet-train of a metabolism. He hadn't seen Nino in weeks outside of quick glimpses at school, much less his friends in the band Kitty Section.

 _It's almost too bad that Luka is in England pursuing his music career,_ Adrien thought idly, while recognizing that he still hadn't answered his father. _I should ask Marinette if Luka has made it big yet._

Before Adrien and Marinette started dating, she and Luka were together. She and Adrien had danced perilously close to the line of cheating, with Chat flirting with her in her civilian form. Then they crossed the line in an unexpected way: Ladybug kissed Adrien. He didn't know it then, but she'd already figured out his identity and was conflicted in her feelings about both sides of him. That fateful kiss broke up both Luka and Marinette's relationship, as well as Kagami and Adrien's.

Thankfully, Adrien and Marinette were still friends with their exes. Kagami was training for the Olympics in fencing and met with Adrien on Fridays, according to the playdates his father had set. Luka was living in London in an apartment with four roommates with no concept of personal space, the last Adrien had checked.

Adrien loosened his hands, shaking them out under the table. He'd never argued with his father before, never stood up for himself--or his friends.

And, despite Dr. Pemberley's therapy sessions all about boundaries, Adrien wasn't about to start now. He didn't have the words. He was afraid Gabriel would shut him down. 

Adrien knew that as soon as he started arguing, the father-son relationship would change. His father might not love him anymore, or he’d stop showing that he cared in little ways--like eating crab long after he was sick of it for Adrien's benefit.

But try as he might, Adrien couldn't tamp down his rapidly-growing anger. His chest felt uncomfortably tight. His eyes were pressurized and dry. He kept his lips shut so that he wouldn't bare his teeth.

"May I be excused?" Adrien said, proud of himself for remaining deferential and polite even when he wanted to spit the words out. 

Gabriel looked down at Adrien's plate. Due to Marinette bringing him a second lunch and a second dinner every day of the week when he was starving, Adrien had a brief stint of eating too much and vomiting most of it up. That two weeks had damaged his teeth, cementing Gabriel's false suspicion that Adrien was bulimic in explanation of his weight loss. 

Adrien had backed off on visits to Marinette's and told her to only bring him lunch at school twice a week. They worked out a schedule, but that was before Chat started working his magic on Instagram.

"You're already finished?" Gabriel said, raising a brow.

"Yes, Father," Adrien affirmed, itching to flee to his room.

"You eat too quickly, son."

Traumatized after the months-long period of starvation, Adrien couldn't help but eat too fast. He also hoarded food in a carefully-managed New Stash under his bed. The Old Stash had been poorly-handled and never-touched, so the food had rotted away in Adrien's closet.

He hung his head like an obedient child would do. "I know."

Gabriel tilted his head, peering at Adrien. "Work on that." 

Adrien squirmed under the increased scrutiny. "I will," he promised, staring at his lap. "Now may I be excused?"

"Of course, Adrien," his father said. He popped more crab meat into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "Don't let _me_ keep you. I can finish dinner alone."

Adrien winced. He closed his fingers on his thighs, grasping his jeans. "I can stay."

"Good choice," Gabriel said, expressionless. He returned to carefully dismantling his crab.

The rest of the dinner passed in silence.

***

After school on Wednesday, Adrien entered the Agreste manor to the shrill sound of his aunt screaming.

"I will not leave until I get what belongs to me!" Amelie Graham de Vanily's shouting echoed throughout the house as Adrien walked into the foyer. "It's time, Gabriel!"

The noise was coming from upstairs. Adrien wondered if he should butt in or retreat to his room. "Amelie," Gabriel said, "you have no right--"

" _I_ have no right? Me?" Amelie shrieked, as Adrien climbed the stairs in haste. He didn't want to interrupt them, really, but he wanted to see his aunt. She looked so much like his mother. They even smelled the same, like bergamot and jasmine perfume. "That's rich!"

Adrien stepped into the sunroom on the third floor. Amelie stood in his father's space by the wall of windows, jabbing a finger directly under his nose. He was sneering. "You relinquished--Adrien," Gabriel said, finally seeming to notice his son. Amelie spun to face the boy as Gabriel asked, "What are you doing here, son?"

Adrien shifted on his feet. "I've just come back from school. Hello, Aunt Amelie. It's a pleasure to see you."

Amelie's gaze softened. "Adrien," she cooed, stepping towards him. "I have something to tell--"

Gabriel cut her off by grabbing her arm. He snarled. "You would dishonor her memory like that?"

Adrien watched as Amelie shook off his father's grip, rearing back. "How dare you touch me!"

"Aunt Amelie," Adrien said, desperate to defuse the situation, "is Felix here?"

Looking over her shoulder at him, Amelie wilted. All the tension flowed out of her like water pouring onto the floor. Gabriel turned away from them to stare out the windows, hands clasped behind his back. 

"No, dear," she said, shoulders sagging. "It's just me this time."

Adrien didn't know if he was happy or sad about his cousin not coming to see him. He decided he should be sad and tried to summon the appropriate emotional response.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Adrien said genuinely. "Will you be staying long?"

Gabriel turned his head to glare at her. "No," he snapped. "In fact, your _aunt_ was just leaving."

Amelie scowled at him, clenching her fists by her sides. "This isn't over, Gabriel Agreste. I _will_ be back, and I _will_ retrieve what’s mine.”

She stalked over to Adrien, but stopped when she reached him. Amelie smiled tenderly at the boy, kissed his stubbly cheek, and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

Adrien flinched and tried to pull away, but Amelie secured her grip on him. Amelie was his aunt, true, but she was an unfamiliar woman and that reminded him of Lila. He swallowed thickly, his sudden flare of anxiety choking him. Vibrating in her hold, Adrien’s breath came thick and fast.

Amelie didn’t seem to notice his distress. “Walk me out, would you, sweetheart?”

“No,” Gabriel barked, not even turning back to them. Adrien started. “Adrien, you will stay here.”

Adrien stood stock still. He was caught between two warring adults, and he didn’t know whom he should be following. His father was still his father, though, and his orders won out. “Y-Yes, Father.”

Amelie looked livid. Her lips and cheeks were bloodless, and her eyes flashed. She grit her teeth, and the hand on Adrien’s shoulder tightened painfully. Her manicured nails bit through his shirt. It was all he could do to keep from crying out. “How dare you!” she cried, releasing him to whirl on Gabriel.

Air rushed into the space she’d left, and Adrien gulped down precious oxygen, feeling lightheaded. 

“Goodbye, Amelie,” Gabriel said, not bothering to even look over his shoulder. “Nathalie will see you out.”

Adrien glanced at the back of the room, to where Nathalie stood. He hadn’t even noticed her presence until his father had pointed her out, but of course she was witness to this debacle. She walked up to Adrien and his aunt and inclined her head. “Madame Graham de Vanily. This way, please.”

Aunt Amelie stalked out without another word, leaving a gasping, bewildered Adrien behind.

_What the heck was that all about?_

He blinked at Gabriel. “Father,” he said. “What--”

“You’re dismissed, Adrien,” Gabriel denounced, his hands twitching against each other. 

“But--”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Gabriel said coldly, turning to face his son. “You’re dismissed.”

Adrien hung his head, his fingers clenching and unclenching. His skin was still crawling from Amelie’s uncomfortable touch. “Yes, Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events that Ameilie is referring to are from [To Any Lengths](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24509401), a oneshot that kicks off the Spark series. You do not need to have read Lengths to understand what happens in Heart, but the oneshot may give you some background information. 
> 
> All you really need to know for this scene is that Emilie, facing infertility issues, manipulated Ameilie into giving up one of her twins, Adrien.
> 
> \---
> 
> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien knits a scarf for Marinette, and Chat needs validation from Ladybug.

Adrien’s sparkly, pink, cotton yarn slid over his bamboo needles as he added stitches to the scarf he was knitting for Marinette. He’d been working on it for a month, sitting on his couch to knit whenever he had a free moment and wanted to relax.

And after Gabriel’s successful guilt trip at dinner, Adrien needed to relax. The boy’s shoulders were ridiculously tense, so he kept stretching them. But he was wearing his wristbands, which brought him some comfort. 

Knitting used to be terrible. But eventually, after struggling through the first couple of weeks, something clicked in Adrien’s brain, and he figured out how to successfully purl.

Unfortunately, his first attempt at the scarf absolutely sucked. So he frogged it--taking the piece off the needles and quickly unraveling it.

This new scarf was his fifth attempt, and his best. His stitches were finally straight, and he wasn’t dropping as many. 

Or, well, his stitches were straight _er_. He thought he could be satisfied with this. 

He wondered if he’d end up deciding to frog it later, depending on how frustrated with the imperfections he’d get, but for now, he was pleased.

Plagg floated over to the boy, camembert in hand. “It’s past midnight. You really should be asleep.”

Adrien smiled at the kwami over the needles. “I’m fine, Plagg.” 

“You haven’t had a full eight hours of sleep since I’ve known you,” Plagg said, huffing. He snarfed his cheese down in one bite and spoke as he chewed. “And Hawkmoth’s in the habit of throwing akumas at three-thirty a.m., remember? You’re not going to get _any_ sleep at this rate.”

Warmth bloomed in Adrien’s chest. He set his knitting aside on his pillow and cupped his hands. “Thanks for caring about me, Plagg.”

“Hmph.” Plagg folded his flippers. He flew over to Adrien’s hands and settled in them without looking at the boy. 

Adrien beamed down at him. The boy scratched the kwami’s head, right behind the ears, just like Adrien knew Plagg loved. 

“Don’t expect me to purr,” Plagg grumbled. Despite his whining, the black mini-god rubbed his face all over Adrien’s palms.

Adrien chuckled. “I don’t want to go to bed yet,” he said, giving into a yawn he’d been trying not to have. 

Truth be told, he didn’t want to sleep because he’d been having nightmares of Cataclysming Marinette. He was torn: on the one hand, he thought he deserved them. On the other, he didn’t want them at all. Seeing Marinette die was too much. “I need a shower.”

“Nooo,” Plagg pleased, clinging to Adrien’s thumb. “Go to bed nooow.”

Adrien’s chuckle became a full-blown laugh. “You know I have to have a shower at night, Plagg.”

Plagg looked shifty. “Sometimes you crash in bed after akumas without showering because you’re so tired. You’re getting sleepy, you’re getting sleeeepy…”

Adrien grinned. “Hypnosis, Plagg?”

“Every minute you spend showering is a minute you’re not falling asleep,” Plagg said primly. 

Adrien laid the little kwami down on the couch cushion next to the half-knitted scarf. “It won’t take too long. I’ve got showering down to an art. I’ll shower and shave and then get to bed.” 

Stubble had started showing up on his face back in June, and now, two and half months later in September, Adrien had gotten pretty good at shaving. He hardly ever cut himself anymore. Marinette wouldn’t kiss him while his little hairs poked her, so he had incentive to keep clean-shaven.

“Hmph,” Plagg grumbled again.

Adrien crossed to the bathroom, and he turned on the rain head shower so it had time to heat up. Trying to move fast to placate Plagg, the boy quickly stripped down and stepped under the spray, letting loose a shout because the water was still cold. Shivering until it warmed up, Adrien started soaping his scalp with the first of his shampoos. 

And then he heard the too-familiar noise.

His phone was blaring with an akuma alert. 

“Oh, come on!” Adrien yelped, scrubbing his hands through his hair as he rinsed off the soap. “Now?”

“I knew it!” Adrien heard Plagg say over the sounds of the drizzle and the alarm. “I knew a shower was a bad idea!”

Adrien finished rinsing his hair and shut the shower off. He stepped out, almost slipping on the tile floor of the bathroom in his haste, and toweled off. Goosebumps sprouting on his bare arms, Adrien threw on a Jagged Stone T-shirt from his closet, fresh briefs, and his old jeans.

He checked the phone’s news app. Ladybug was fighting a fire-breathing akuma at the base of the Montparnasse Tower. 

Adrien sighed. He hated that tower. That was where Ladybug had taken a file cabinet to the face, and he’d yelled at her for jumping in his way. She fixed her face and bugged out. Later, at the bakery, he’d yelled at Marinette. He was almost akumatized that night, which sent the girl into a panic attack. 

Of course, that was also the evening she’d kissed Chat--with a heated, adrenaline-filled liplock--and had told him she loved him, so the night wasn’t a total wash. 

Now, he had a job to do: Draw the ire of the akuma, so Ladybug could figure out the Lucky Charm that Tikki would give her.

“Plagg, claws out!” The transformation light washed over Adrien. Hair still wet, Chat pole-vaulted towards the tower, recalling a second fight and a second kiss there. Montparnasse was the site of the effective bird-akuma, whose name he’d never learned because she blew his and Ladybug’s eardrums out with a sonic scream. 

Ladybug had almost died that night. When Chat had caught up to her on a roof at the bottom of the tower, he’d frantically kissed her--and she’d kissed back. She’d done that despite telling him earlier that they were not to kiss in costume, lest Hawkmoth realize they were in love. Alya had caught that kiss on a video livestream, which was a disaster. So the two superheroes sat down to an interview with her a few days later, explaining to the public that the kiss was a mistake and that they weren’t in love.

The secrecy still bothered Chat. He wanted to shout their relationship from the rooftops. But Ladybug wasn’t ready, and he respected that.

As he approached the offensive Montparnasse Tower, he saw an akuma as big as Weredad spouting gouts of flame at his red-suited Lady. Chat was just about to burst into the fight, but then she used her Lucky Charm, a bucket, to cover the akuma’s head. A well-timed yo-yo strike broke the akumatized object, which was too small to see from far away.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” she called, throwing the bucket into the air just as Chat landed on the rooftop. Her millions of tiny helpers flooded the scene, repairing scorch marks, but not soon enough for Chat to avoid seeing the blistering burns on the exposed parts of Ladybug’s face in his night vision. The scent of charred flesh made him gag.

Chat ran to her and took her hand, just as the magical ladybugs swarmed around her. They swarmed around him, too, and he was able to see the way her skin knitted itself back together. 

She smiled at him. He frowned at her. 

“Chat,” Ladybug said, tugging against his grip. The Eiffel Tower pendant nestled between her breasts bounced with the movement. “I have to go comfort the victim.”

He didn’t let go of her hand. “You took him on alone. You were hurt! I’m… I’m so sorry, I’ve failed you--”

“Victim first, martyr complex later, Chat,” Ladybug said, with a teasing lilt to her voice to take the sting out of the words. Her earrings chirped.

He let her go and watched her run to the side of Hawkmoth’s most recent prey. She crouched down next to a stocky man and started consoling him in low tones.

The hand not gripping Chat’s baton trembled. She’d been hurt. He hadn’t gotten there soon enough, and she’d been hurt. It was his fault that her skin had blackened and curled. The nauseating odor of burnt flesh still assaulted his nose. Chat hugged himself and started to uncontrollably shake. 

Twisted up inside him were other feelings as well: those of uselessness. Ladybug was able to take on an akuma all by herself. She didn’t even need him.

But she’d been hurt. _If I had been here, if I hadn’t been taking that stupid shower, then she wouldn’t have… the akuma wouldn’t have…_

He started when she laid a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed her approach. “Chat, can you take the victim home? I have to bug out.”

Chat swallowed and met her eyes. The skin on her exposed cheeks was clear, unmarred. Nothing to show for her most recent struggle. “Sure,” he whispered, his voice--somewhere between a baritone and a tenor--cracking. 

She beamed at him. “Thanks,” Ladybug, ever the consummate professional, said. Her earrings chirped and she gripped her yo-yo, but then she paused. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Super,” Chat croaked, offering her a thumbs up with the hand not holding his baton. 

“If you’re sure…”

“I’ll be fine, Bug,” he said, scenting the air for her calming chocolate-coffee scent. He caught it and inhaled deeply.

“Okay. If you’re sure,” Ladybug said again, watching him warily. “Bug out!” With a _ziiiiip_ of her yo-yo cable extending off the roof, she was gone.

Chat took the victim--a professional fire-eater who’d been kicked out of a circus for canoodling with a trapeze artist and creating drama--home. Still broken up by the sight of Ladybug’s blisters popping and fading, Chat pole-vaulted around the city. 

He stopped by the rooftop facing the bakery thrice, checking if the lights were still on. At his first check, they were, but he didn’t go inside, merely circled around the city again. They were shut off at his third check, at about two o’clock in the morning, but Chat was still restless.

Eschewing his baton, he climbed the Eiffel Tower, using the strength in his arms and legs to hoist himself up. He climbed back down, and then returned to the top again. By the time his legs were sore and his arms were tired, he’d lost count of the number of times he’d leapt from girder to girder. He rested at the top, panting heavily, feet dangling off the edge. 

To his surprise, just when he was checking the time on his baton--four forty-six a.m.--Ladybug landed next to him. “Hey, Kitty.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice rusty from a dry throat. He never drank enough water. He hated the plain taste. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same question,” his Lady said, settling on the tower next to him. Unable to help himself, he searched her face for burn scars. She was still wearing the pendant and ring. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” Chat said, a whispered confession. He looked away, screwing his eyes shut. “Sorry for the crudeness.”

“It’s fine, Chat,” Ladybug muttered and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Chat said quickly. He sighed. The weight of her head resting on his shoulder was sort of relaxing, but his upper back still hurt from all of his pent-up tension. He opened his eyes and stole a peek at her, but only a peek. “You were hurt today because I was taking a shower.”

Ladybug chuckled, wrinkling her nose. “I did notice your hair was wet.”

He took her hand and turned it over, tracing a claw over where he knew her lifeline was through her gloves. “I’m sorry. I failed you. I should have been there.”

“Kitty,” Ladybug said, raising her head. “If you’d been there, I probably still would have been burned, and then you would have panicked.” She cupped his cheek in her free hand. “Am I right?”

He wilted, shoulders sagging. “Probably.”

“So it’s a good thing I took care of the akuma myself,” she said, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. 

Chat sniffled. “Do you even need me?”

“Of course I do,” Ladybug objected, looking horrified at the implications of the question. “I can’t take on all the akumas by myself. Your job is to keep the fight contained enough for me to figure out the Lucky Charm and win.” Ladybug shook her head. “And you do that very well. You keep the heat off me. Like it or not, you’re my shield, Chat.”

Shield. He liked that term. It made him sound like he had a purpose, like he was useful to Ladybug. He straightened his shoulders. “Okay.”

“Plus, you’re my emotional support cat,” Ladybug said, and he barked out a surprised laugh. She smacked his shoulder. “I’m serious.”

He pressed his lips together, darkly amused. “I’m listening.”

“Not just anyone can do your job, Chat,” Ladybug said, wrapping her arms around his ribs and leaning her head on his chest. He looped his arms around her shoulders. “What I need is very specific. You’re the one who picks me up when I fall. Even in the very beginning, with Stoneheart, I was only able to take on Hawkmoth because you were there to give me a pep talk.”

He stayed silent, so she continued. “We even think in complementary ways. I get lost in my own head, and you go, go, go, much too fast. I remind you to consider things, and you remind me to _move_.”

He was alarmed to smell salt. She raised her head, and he saw tears in her eyes. “Chat, I can’t do this job without you. I would have quit a long time ago without you, and Paris would have burned.”

“Okay,” Chat said, the knots in his shoulders loosening. He kissed her forehead. “Thank you, little mouse.”

“Anytime, Kitty,” his Lady said. “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien learns the difference between forgiveness and access from Dr. Pemberley.

“My father guilted me into staying at the dinner table,” Adrien told his therapist, Dr. Pemberley, in their Tuesday appointment. She was seated directly across from him, close enough to brush his knees with hers, which she never did. A glass sliding door led to a balcony. Her office was yellow with steel-blue accents where it used to be overwhelmingly green.

It was also small. 

Intimate. 

Claustrophobic, at times.

Now was one of those times. 

“And did you stay?” Dr. Pemberley said, making a note on her bright yellow, blue-lined legal pad. 

As expected from a therapist Gabriel would pick, Dr. Pemberley was gorgeous. Her deep brown skin was flawless, and her cheekbones rivaled that of the most famous models on the catwalk. Her classically-cut pantsuits and pencil skirts were impeccably tailored. And Adrien had a soft spot for her British accent.

What Adrien did not expect from a therapist Gabriel would pick was that Dr. Pemberley was strikingly effective. She was the one who’d encouraged him to quit modeling, after Chloé originally brought up the idea.

And now, Dr. Pemberley wanted him to set even more boundaries with his father.

“I did,” Adrien said, feeling guilty even for the admission.

“Why is that, Adrien?” the therapist asked, as he knew she would.

He winced. “Well, I… I didn’t want to argue.”

“Why not?” Dr. Pemberley’s gaze wasn’t threatening, harsh, or expectant. Her expression was calm, but not implacable; she was waiting for him, but she wasn’t presumptuous. Her lack of desiring anything out of him, the complete neutrality and lack of judgment, made him want to answer honestly.

“I… I thought he wouldn’t love me if I stood up for myself,” Adrien said, meeting her eyes. “Or he would love me less.”

“You’re very attached to the myth that your father loves you,” Dr. Pemberley stated, with a bland delivery that belied the strength of her words. 

Adrien was stunned. _Myth?_ He grasped at his thoughts, but they were like coarse sand slipping through his fingers, chafing his skin on their way to the ground. “My father loving me is a myth?”

Dr. Pemberley uncrossed her legs. “Think about it, Adrien. Your father may show his care for you, in tiny and infrequent ways. But he shuts down your emotions, often guilt trips you, and keeps you from socializing with your peer group.” Dr. Pemberley shook her head slowly. “Those are not the actions of a father who loves you.”

“My father does love me,” Adrien whispered, placing a hand over his pounding heart. “He… He does.”

Dr. Pemberely’s neutral gaze shifted to her legal pad, where she made another note. Then she looked back at him. “Let’s explore that,” she said, and Adrien bit his lip. “I’m not going to try to convince you that your father doesn’t love you. That would be cruel.”

Adrien nodded, staying silent, eyes glazed over.

She cleared her throat and continued speaking. “But I am going to tell you that this is about you, Adrien, not Gabriel,” she said. “This is about you being so attached to the idea that you have your father’s love that you make bad choices. Consistently. So regardless of whether your father truly loves you or not, you need to let go of the idea that he does.”

Adrien clutched at his shirt. His heart rattled around in his ribcage. He couldn’t get enough air. “But… But he does love me…”

Dr. Pemberley didn’t sigh, though she looked like she wanted to. Her eyes tightened briefly. “Adrien,” she called. “You are safe. You’re sitting on a blue couch in my office. No one will hurt you here. Breathe.”

Adrien drew a slow, shaky breath through his nose. He held the oxygen in his lungs for five seconds and then exhaled through his mouth. 

“Very good, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley commended, and he wrapped himself up in the praise like a warm blanket. “I’d like to talk a little bit about the harm your father has done to you, if you don’t mind.”

Adrien swallowed. “Okay.”

“Your father rarely--if ever--shows you any affection,” Dr. Pemberley said, scribbling down a note. “Can you acknowledge that he has harmed you by this lack of parental love?”

“Yes, but I forgive him,” Adrien said quickly.

Dr. Pemberley raised a brow. “You do have a bad habit of forgiving people who haven’t earned that forgiveness, Adrien.”

“Forgiveness has to be earned?”

“I used the wrong word,” Dr. Pemberley said, tilting her head. “Forgiveness is a gift we give freely, but _access_ is based on trust, which has to be earned. Forgiving your father doesn’t mean you need to give him access to you, physically or emotionally.”

“I… I don’t have to give him access to me.” Adrien was just confirming the words more than anything.

“Not unless you trust him not to hurt you,” Dr. Pemberley said, making a note on her bright yellow legal pad. “Access is granted through trust, and trust is restored through the process of reconciliation.”

“What’s the process of reconciliation?” Adrien asked, blinking at her. Once again, he wished he was taking notes. 

“The process of reconciliation is a series of steps that your father will have to choose to take himself,” Dr. Pemberley clarified, crossing her legs at the knee. “I’m more interested in discussing the process of forgiveness for you, as that’s more germane to your situation.”

Adrien pressed his back into the couch cushion. “I’m listening.”

“First, you acknowledge the harm that was done,” Dr. Pemberley said, tapping her pen on her legal pad. “Forgiveness does not dismiss the harm as though it were unimportant. And forgiveness never makes excuses for the offender.”

“Do I…” Adrien started and then licked his lips. “Have I done that?”

“What do you think, Adrien?”

Adrien drew another breath through his nose and nodded. “I think I have.”

“You have,” she concurred, returning his nod. “But you can stop. Going back to forgiveness, you begin the process by acknowledging, ‘This person hurt me, and that matters.’ Can you say the words?”

“My father hurt me--” Adrien winced. “--and that matters.”

“Very good, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. “The next step in the process of forgiveness is releasing the offender from their debt. The root of injustice in this case is your father denying you something that was legitimately owed to you: parental love and affection.”

Adrien sucked a breath over his teeth. Even though he’d come to the conclusion that his father didn’t love him, hearing Dr. Pemberley tell him that he’d been _denied_... That was harder than he expected it would be.

Dr. Pemberley continued. “You deserve to be treated with respect, and you received an insult. But when you forgive your father, you release him from your demand to receive what you deserve.”

“Does that mean I’m entitled?”

“Not at all. You don’t believe you deserve special treatment,” she said, pursing her lips. “Just the standard parental love, if you will. But forgiveness is overcoming your own sense of injustice, your own sense of ‘I will not be okay until I get what I was owed.’ You can be okay without anything your father does.” She tilted her head again. “Does that make sense?”

“It does,” Adrien said, sighing. “This will be hard for me, but I’ll try to think of it that way.”

“Good. I hope you’ll be able to,” Dr. Pemberley said, making a note on her legal pad. “The last step in the process of forgiveness is wishing the offender well. When we experience harm from other people, we often want them to suffer just as we have.” 

“I can understand that,” Adrien said, wrinkling his nose.

He definitely wanted Hawkmoth to suffer sleepless nights and physical pain and adrenaline rushes that kept Adrien buzzing in a state of high alert for hours. Adrien wanted Hawkmoth to have to deal with an extremely high metabolism, eventually wasting away from starvation. Adrien wanted Hawkmoth to have to deal with a restrictive diet and uncomfortable, sexually-charged photo shoots with an abuser--though the boy recognized that those last two weren’t the supervillain’s fault.

Adrien wanted Hawkmoth to have nightmares about killing people.

Dr. Pemberley leaned forward. “But forgiveness is all about wishing the people who have hurt us better lives than they’ve had. Forgiving your father means you want him to thrive. It’s the ultimate expression of love. Don’t you think?”

Adrien frowned. “I don’t know if I can do that. I still… I still love my father. And I do wish him the best. But I think I have to acknowledge that he hurt me first.”

“Yes, exactly,” Dr. Pemberley said, clicking her pen twice. “The steps are in that order for a reason. You can’t forgive someone and jump to the ‘wishing them well’ step without proceeding through the first two.”

Adrien clenched his fists on top of his knees, bunching up the fabric of his jeans, so his hands wouldn’t tremble and give away how upset he was. “So first acknowledge the harm.” He stared at his white knuckles. “I… I don’t like that my father never remembers my birthday.”

That was a particular sore point for Adrien, as his birthday was September 25th, that upcoming Friday. Appointments with Dr. Pemberley were always on Tuesday afternoons. While Adrien wasn’t expecting to mention his father’s disappointing lack of attention to his birthday in therapy, the very thought of that kind of neglect… hurt.

Dr. Pemberley made a note. “Go on.”

“I don’t like that we have to schedule dinners, but...” As Adrien spoke the words, his chest tightened. He clutched at his heart. “But I know he’s busy. It only makes sense that he’d miss some.”

“You’re making excuses for him, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said, not without sympathy.

Adrien glanced at the floor. “Sorry, I…”

“It’s all right,” Dr. Pemberley assured, making yet another note. “I know how hard this is for you.”

Adrien looked up at her, tears welling in his eyes, and nodded. 

“Continue.”

“I don’t like that he… That he never touches me,” Adrien bit out, sniffling. He was pathetic. He didn’t deserve to be touched, didn’t deserve affection from his father of all people. Gabriel didn’t like touching other people. Adrien knew that. He didn’t want to force the man to do something outside of his comfort zone.

“Touch is a human need,” Dr. Pemberley said, as if reading his thoughts. “That your father has neglected to provide this very basic level of care speaks volumes.” Adrien worked his mouth, but Dr. Pemberley continued. “How else has he harmed you, Adrien?”

It was the very question that Adrien didn’t want to answer. He felt his shoulders tense up. “I don’t like that he uses grades and performance markers to judge whether I get to spend time with my friends,” Adrien said, setting his jaw. “I don’t like that he disapproves so much of Marinette. I don’t like that he deliberately arranged my classes so that I can’t spend time with the people I’ve chosen to have in my life.”

“That is an injustice,” Dr. Pemberley agreed neutrally.

Adrien practically snarled his next words. “I don’t like that he shuts down my emotions.”

“Good,” Dr. Pemberley said, inclining her head. “Now we’re getting to the heart of the matter.” 

“I don’t like that he didn’t notice that I was starving until I passed out at school,” Adrien seethed, anger curling hot and unstoppable in his gut. “I don’t like that he didn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t bulimic. I don’t like that he had the doctor check my teeth twice!”

Dr. Pemberley nodded. “And?”

A growl burst forth from his lips, which curled back to bare his teeth. “I don’t like that I still have to count calories.”

Dr. Pemberley looked up from her legal pad sharply. “You are? Adrien, that’s terrible,” she snapped. Adrien flinched back from her tone. “While I respect a parent’s decision to enforce healthy eating, you shouldn’t be restricted like you were when you were modeling. You need to encourage your father to talk to your dietician, who will undoubtedly agree with me.”

“Will do, Dr. Pemberley,” Adrien said, but then he winced. “Will my father… make the doctor check my teeth again?”

“Probably,” Dr. Pemberley said, shaking her head. “He shouldn’t insist on that, but I’d be surprised if he didn’t. It would be out of character otherwise.”

Adrien's heart sank. Gabriel had suspected his son was bulimic, so he had had the doctor check Adrien's teeth. Unfortunately, they had been accidentally damaged when Marinette had been bringing Adrien a second lunch and dinner every day. For a brief, two-week stint, Adrien had eaten everything she'd given him, only to throw up most of the food at home. Thus, Gabriel's suspicions had been confirmed--and Adrien couldn't tell him the truth.

The doctor had prescribed a special fluoridated toothpaste, which Adrien had used religiously. Now, he could only hope that the toothpaste had done its job and had repaired his teeth.

Dr. Pemberley’s watch beeped. “Unfortunately, we’re out of time,” she said, tsking. “I’m sorry, Adrien. We’ll pick up where we left off next week. Is that all right?”

“That’s fine,” Adrien muttered, his mind a whirlwind of negative thoughts. He was still angry, but he didn’t want to feel that way. He brutally stuffed the emotions before they ran away with him. “Thank you.”

“See you then, Adrien.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien playfully debates video games with Nino and opens fifty years of birthday presents.

“You’re totally wrong, Dude,” Nino said to Adrien, sitting next to Alya and Marinette in the Dupont cafeteria. “Cammy’s story is the best. A deadly clone assassin who breaks away from an evil organization to become a British spy? Sign me up.”

“I just like Chun-Li,” Adrien said, setting his fork down. As usual, he’d finished his food long before anyone else. “An accomplished female martial artist seeking revenge for the death of her parent? That just really appeals to me for some reason.”

“Oh,” Nino murmured, tapping his lip. “When you put it that way… No, Cammy’s still the best.”

“You guys make no sense to me.” Alya laughed, scrolling through her phone. “But if we’re going for accomplished women, I say Ladybug beats all of your video game characters.”

Adrien chuckled. Marinette laid a gentle hand on his arm, placing her other hand on Nino’s. She grinned as she spoke. “As long as neither of you likes Akuma, this debate is fine.”

The four friends laughed together. Lunch was Adrien’s favorite part of lycee. Through some elaborate machinations that Adrien couldn’t fathom, his father had somehow prevented him from being in the same classes as Nino, Alya, or Marinette. So he only saw them at lunch, which he’d begged Nathalie to let him attend in the cafeteria.

Adrien still had the bad habit of nervously searching the cafeteria for Lila. After she’d sexually assaulted him, she had confronted him in public and in front of his friends, claiming that he’d kissed _her_. Nino and Alya had stood up from him, and Marinette had threatened her. Adrien had been too panicked at the time to speak.

And then he’d killed her. Adrien still had nightmares about killing Lila, though sometimes the person he was killing morphed into Nino, Alya, Kagami, Luka--or worst of all, Marinette. Just thinking about Marinette dissolving into ash, a horrified look on her face, made his throat close up. 

The fully-alive Marinette caught his eye and smiled at him. She took his hand in one of hers under the table and offered him a reassuring squeeze. Then she lifted her hand from Nino’s and continued eating her sandwich. 

She wasn’t wearing the Eiffel Tower pendant or the ring Adrien had given her, because those were Ladybug’s and Marinette couldn’t wear them in public when Ladybug had. Neither was Adrien wearing his wristbands. Alya would have had a field day… or an aneurysm.

Nino and Adrien continued to debate the merits of Street Fighter characters until Alya declared that particular avenue of conversation a dead end. “Seriously, guys, you’re the only ones who care about which video game lady’s story is better,” Alya groused, and then showed them her phone. “Look, I haven’t seen any Hawkmoth activity in the past four days.”

“It is Thursday,” Marinette said, polishing off her second sandwich. Adrien had eaten three a while back. “Hawkmoth doesn’t tend to throw akumas on a Thursday. But you’re right, he’s been quiet lately.”

“What does that mean?” Adrien said, eyeing Marinette’s chips. She caught his gaze and pushed her plate towards him with a twinkle in her eyes. He gratefully took a potato slice and stuffed it into his mouth. 

“It means he’s planning something, probably,” Nino said, frowning. “Or that most Parisians have taken a mental health day.”

Adrien caught Marinette’s eye and grimaced at her. “Whatever the reason,” he said slowly, “it can’t be good for Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Alya snorted. “Nothing Hawkmoth does is good for them, Adrien.”

Nino laughed. “Yeah, seriously.”

“Seriously,” Marinette agreed.

That night, after patrol at nine pm, Adrien straddled Marinette’s hips, gently working the knots out of her back with his hands as she lay prone on her chaise longue. “So what do you think Hawkmoth is planning?”

They’d had a tradition before he’d known her identity of Chat visiting Marinette on Thursdays. After they’d revealed themselves, Adrien continued the tradition, destransforming in order to release Plagg to Tikki’s embrace.

On Thursdays, Marinette fed Adrien passionfruit macarons and croissants and sometimes a second dinner, which always made him think of his New Stash. He hadn’t had to break into the military rations or the peanut butter yet, but Adrien drank a protein drink practically every day. He was constantly in need of food.

Marinette groaned. Adrien couldn’t tell if that was from his handiwork or his question about what Hawkmoth was planning. “I don’t know,” she huffed. “But isn’t it weird that we haven’t seen Mayura since last September?”

“Has it been a year already?” Adrien said, crimping Marinette’s deltoids in his fingers.

“Oh, gosh, right there,” Marinette hissed. Adrien smiled as he dug his thumb into a particularly stubborn knot in her shoulder. “But yeah, it’s been a year. I don’t know why Mayura just… quit appearing.”

“Maybe she quit in general?” Adrien wondered, gliding his hands down the muscles along Marinette’s spine in long, even strokes. He glanced down at his wristbands and the ring she wore. The pendant was resting on the chaise’s cushion so it wouldn’t dig into her chest as she lay there receiving a back rub.

“Why, though?” Marinette said, and she moaned as he kneaded her lower back. “Why would she just quit like that? They were on a tear together last year. And now… Now nothing? It doesn’t make sense.”

Adrien frowned a little, using shorter, circular strokes on Marinette’s shoulders. “No, it doesn’t. The last time we saw her, she looked exhausted. Maybe she’s sick?”

Adrien watched the fascinating flickering in Marinette’s expression that indicated she was considering his words. “Maybe,” she said carefully. “That would explain why Hawkmoth took his most powerful piece--his general--out of play.”

Marinette shook her head and started to sit up. Adrien scooted off her hips and let her. She smiled at him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” she said, cupping his smooth cheeks in her hands.

“Forgotten what, little mouse?” Adrien asked, shaking out his sore hands. He hadn’t noticed that his fingers were aching until he stopped giving his girlfriend the backrub.

She stole a chaste kiss from his lips. “Your birthday, of course. Adrien Agreste, don’t tell me you forgot that tomorrow’s your birthday?”

Adrien beamed at her. “You remembered. You’re the best.” 

Marinette laughed and released his face. He picked up the Eiffel Tower pendant and held it up for her inspection. She nodded and turned away from him so he could loop the chain around her neck. 

Fixing the clasp, he placed a kiss on her nape, which made her shiver and giggle. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Leaving him on the chaise longue, she crossed over to her desk and opened the drawer. She returned to him with a small, wrapped, rectangular present. He opened his arms, and she snuggled up next to him, pressing the gift into his hands. 

Adrien tore into the wrapping paper, scattering it everywhere like a true cat would do. She chuckled again. “A notebook?” he said, examining the hard-backed book. The cover was embossed with paw prints.

“Yeah,” Marinette said, kissing the underside of his jaw. “Open it up.”

He cracked open the black cover and flipped through the pages. On the bottom of each paper, Marinette had written a positive affirmation or inspirational quote. Of the quotes he’d glanced at in his inspection, Adrien’s favorite was by Sigmund Freud: _“Time spent with cats is never wasted.”_ Marinette had doodled a picture of Chat Noir playing with a ball of yarn next to it.

 _“Are you good enough?”_ read one of the affirmations. _“Yes, you are.”_

Tears gathered in Adrien’s eyes. “Thank you, little mouse,” he said, wiping his eyes with his thumb. “I couldn’t have come up with a more thoughtful gift.”

“So you like it?” she said, and the hope in her eyes killed him.

“I love it,” Adrien delcared, grasping her chin in his hand. He pressed his lips against hers in a long, restrained kiss. “I love you.”

Marinette’s eyes fluttered closed. She opened them again with a smile. “I love you, too.”

Adrien tried to recall what they'd been doing around Marinette’s birthday, July 25th. They’d been dating at that point, he knew, and she'd been stonewalling him. They’d kissed as Chat and Ladybug in front of Alya, breaking one of Marinette’s rules for dating. After Alya had livestreamed the kiss, they’d had to sit down for an interview on the Ladyblog. 

Chat had given Ladybug her birthday gift that day, one day before her actual birthday: an adjustable ring with a cherry blossom motif. She still wore it daily but as Ladybug, unless they weren’t in public. Then she wore the ring as Marinette. 

A few days after Marinette’s birthday, Lila had been akumatized into Volpina and had fooled Chat with a convincing illusion of Ladybug. Volpina’s Ladybug had told him that she couldn't love him anymore because Hawkmoth had learned his identity. Then the real Ladybug had shown up and removed any doubt that Chat had been acting like an idiot who was just about to give his miraculous away. 

Marinette had yelled at Adrien for not telling her about Lila's continued sexual harassment. Adrien had counter-yelled at Marinette for playing her cards close to her chest and not sharing her worries with him. She'd broken down, explaining all her fears about Hawkmoth. After she’d allowed herself to become vulnerable, they’d grown closer still.

But he’d still screamed at her. 

The screaming had been cathartic for both of them, but Adrien felt sick just thinking about it.

Marinette kissed his cheek, bringing him back to the present moment. “Hey. You all right?”

Adrien’s breath hitched. His fingers clenched around the notebook. “Yeah, I-I was just thinking…”

“What about?” Marinette said neutrally. 

That she wasn’t judging him enabled him to open up. “Back around your birthday, we… we screamed at each other.”

Marinette’s smile faltered. “We did. Are you okay?”

“I am,” Adrien said quickly, and she shook her head.

“You don’t seem like you are,” Marinette murmured, gently cupping his cheeks. “It’s okay not to be okay, Adrien. Screaming at each other… That was awful.” She licked her lips. “But we did get through it.”

Despite her holding on to his face, he couldn’t meet her eyes. “You… You still love me, right?”

Marinette gasped. He winced, having pained her. “Of course I do,” she insisted, and hope curled behind his breastbone. “I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

He blinked, green eyes flicking to her bluebell ones. “But how could that be?”

“When you offered me your umbrella,” Marinette explained, cheeks dusted with pink, “I fell head over heels. I thought you were like Chloé--just another mean, rich brat--but… But you weren’t.”

Adrien wanted to ask what was wrong with Chloé, but he already knew. “I… I wasn’t?”

“No,” Marinette said, dragging her thumbs over his cheekbones. “You apologized to me. Me, who’d blamed you earlier in the day for something you hadn’t done. You were-- _are_ \--a peacemaker, Adrien. You just want everyone to get along.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “And I love that.”

Adrien smiled a little. “It’s unrealistic, I know.”

“But I love it,” Marinette said, wrinkling her nose around her grin. Adrien thought she was adorable. 

Adrien clung to the notebook like a lifeline. “Then why did you reject Chat so often? He was me. Is me.”

Marinette grimaced. “I… I rejected him _because_ of you. _You_ were the other boy, Adrien.”

Adrien stared at her, stunned. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His voice came out in a strained whisper. “Oh. I… I see.” He shook his head. “I’d thought that was Luka.”

“No,” Marinette whispered, pulling him down to press a kiss to his forehead. “That was always you. I loved you, Adrien. And I still do, even more now.”

She loved him. 

She _loved_ him. 

He was loved.

Adrien took one hand off the notebook to wipe away the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He sniffled. He realized that he hadn’t really known that she loved him until now, not really. She’d said the words often, and he still hadn’t believed them. But now…

“I trust you, little mouse,” Adrien said, pulling away to beam down at her. “And if you say you love me--and loved me all that time, wow--I believe you.” Her face lit up with a grin, and he brushed his lips against hers. “And I love you, too.” 

“Oh, Adrien.” Marinette sighed. That sigh curled his toes; she’d practically moaned his name. “I do love you. So much. More than anyone.”

Adrien couldn’t deny it. He was happy. 

“And Adrien?”

He placed his nose on her cheek, breathing in her chocolate-coffee scent. “Yes, Marinette?”

Marinette hugged him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Happy birthday.”

He chuckled, returning her embrace. “Thank you.”

Marinette raised her head. “You know what we should do?” she said with a smirk he could only call devious. “Open the rest of your presents.”

“The rest of them?”

Marinette laughed with him, though she also blushed. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I, uh, may have made you fifty years’ worth of birthday presents?”

A cackle burst forth from Adrien’s lips. “Fifty _years_?”

Marinette windmilled her hands. “I may have gone a little overboard? But only a little!”

Adrien chuckled again. He leaned on her. “But you want to give them all to me now? Why, thank you.”

“Most of them don’t apply anymore,” she pouted, shaking her head. “I made them before I knew you were Chat. Plus, you’ve grown ridiculously tall, and faster than the growth chart I’d plotted out for you, so for the clothes we’ll have to skip to presents for your twenties and thirties.”

Adrien blinked at her. “You plotted out my growth on a chart?”

Marinette buried her face in her hands. “My crush was pretty intense.”

Adrien gently pried her face loose from her fingers and kissed them. “I’m honored.”

Marinette beamed at him and extricated herself from his grip. She stood--Eiffel Tower pendant swinging--and crossed to the chest, opening it. “Okay, the presents are in this chest, so… You’ve got a lot of wrapping paper to get through; come on over.”

Adrien leapt from the chaise longue and followed, leaving his journal of affirmations behind. He peered into the chest at the carefully-wrapped gifts. “Shall I just start at the beginning, or choose them at random?”

“Let’s start at the beginning,” Marinette said, choosing a rectangular present with red wrapping paper with stars on it to hand to him. “This was for this year.”

Adrien grinned and tore into the paper, scattering it onto the floor, only to reveal _A Brief History of Time_ by Stephen Hawking, a landmark volume of science writing, especially astrophysics. Adrien brightened. “Oh, I haven’t read this one! Thanks, Marinette!”

“You’re welcome, Adrien!” Marinette said, flushing prettily. “I think you’ll also like this one, slated to be given five years from now.”

He placed the Hawking book on the ground and held out his hands for the next gift. She offered him another book-shaped gift, and he tore into the paper. “‘Professor Povey’s Perplexing Problems,’” Adrien read, looking at the cover of the book, which mimicked a piece of graph paper. “‘Pre-university Physics and Maths Puzzles with Solutions.’ Neat!”

Adrien set the puzzle book on top of the Hawking book and took Marinette into his arms. “You’re so sweet to consider my interest in physics and maths. Thank you for the presents. They’re lovely.”

Marinette stood on her tip toes to nuzzle his cheek with her nose. “You’re welcome, Adrien,” she said and pulled back. “But we’re not done yet.” She selected another gift, seemingly at random. “I think these will fit you. They were for your twenty-sixth birthday, not your sixteenth, but you’re super tall now.”

Adrien took the present from her and gleefully shredded the paper. He held up a pair of comfortable-looking black sweatpants that matched his black shirt, with yellow, green, and purple stripes across the hips. Adrien bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’ve never had a pair of sweatpants before! Thank you!”

He laid the pants on the chest and unbuttoned his jeans. He started to slide them down his hips when Marinette shrieked. “W-W-What are you doing?”

“Uh,” Adrien replied eloquently, his jeans in stasis around his thighs. “Modeling the sweatpants for you?”

“Y-You can’t just take your pants off in a girl’s room!” Marinette cried, covering her eyes with her hands. “I know you’ve got a model’s sense of modesty--which is to say _none at all_ \--but… but…”

Adrien blinked at her. He didn’t realize his dishabille would make her so uncomfortable. But when he thought about it, that made sense. A boy disrobing seemingly at random would bother a normal person. 

“Aah, Marinette, I’m so sorry,” Adrien mumbled, hastily pulling up his jeans and buttoning them. “I can use your changing screen and model the clothes that way?”

Marinette peeked at him through her fingers. “I-If you want to model them for me…”

“Of course I do,” Adrien reassured, happy to do so. “I also really want to try the pants on especially, to see what they feel like.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, lowering her hands. “You go behind the changing screen, and I’ll hand you more clothing presents.”

Adrien flashed her a thumbs up. “Sounds good.”

Picking up the sweatpants and slinging them over his shoulder, he slipped behind the screen and quickly divested himself of his jeans. Folding them neatly, he set them on the floor and then donned the sweatpants. 

Feeling the cotton fabric slide against his skin, he let loose an involuntary, “Oh!” 

He walked out from behind the screen, waited until Marinette’s attention was on him, and strutted around as if he were on the catwalk in Milan. She applauded. “They look nice on you!”

“They’re very comfortable,” Adrien said, placing his hands on his hips. “And warm. I’ve never worn anything like them.”

Marinette’s smile was slow, but the way it graced her lips made Adrien’s heart pound. “I’m glad. That’s why I thought you’d like them,” she said, and she picked up another gift. “Want to try on another?”

“Sure!”

A full three-quarters of the gifts were apparel, which didn't surprise Adrien given Marinette's penchant for fashion design, but it did delight him. Adrien gladly modeled half the clothes for her--the ones that fit. Marinette told him she could tailor the rest. 

Black and white were the predominant colors. She'd made hats and shirts, pants and sweaters; even a tie! The materials ranged from cotton to flannel to poly-cotton blends, but there was no silk, which suited Adrien just fine. None of the shirts--mostly button downs and polos--had high collars that could choke him. His favorite piece of clothing was a long-sleeved, navy blue polo with an embroidered floral design. The floral part was unexpected and he liked it. 

Marinette had clearly poured her heart and soul into designing the clothing. Her passion and creativity showed through in the makings of the other gifts, too.

There was a batch of homemade kinetic sand, which Adrien had never played with before but he looked forward to exploring. There was a decorated picture frame with a drawing of them embracing each other, which he treasured. There were all manner of knitted gifts, like fingerless gloves and hand warmers and a zippered pouch.

Opening the gifts took a couple of hours. There were just so many. He and Marinette had broken for a second dinner at the end of the first hour, but Adrien was eager to get back to his presents. Even at this rate, he wouldn't get home until after midnight.

By the time he opened the last gift, an embroidered sheet music pattern of the first bars of the Beatles’ _‘All You Need is Love,’_ Adrien was floored. Never before had he felt so cared for. 

So loved.

Teary, he wrapped her up in his arms. “I can’t thank you enough,” he whispered into her hair as she clung to him. “I… I just… I don’t have words.”

Marinette kissed his chin. “You’re welcome, Adrien.”

“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he choked out, rubbing his nose on hers. 

“I love you, too, Adrien Agreste,” she murmured, looking up at him with so much adoration in her eyes, he thought his heart would burst. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Believe me,” he said, chuckling, “I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into My Heart, I'll Best Again, Adrien celebrates his birthday with Chloe.

“Adrikiiins!” Chloé squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her chest against his. Adrien was taller than Chloé now by about a head, but she always made him feel small when she hugged him. He was visiting her in her room at the Grand Paris the morning after Marinette had showered him with gifts. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

An embrace by his oldest friend was a full-body affair. She practically tackled him each and every time, so he had to make sure he wasn’t caught flat-footed and would topple over. Chloé always leaned heavily on him; he could count the number of times he’d leaned on her on one hand.

Friday was the day his father had set aside for playdates with Chloé and Kagami, one girl every other week. Adrien was surprised that he’d actually been having fun with each girl. With Kagami, he played cards and board games--and she occasionally covered him when he instead hung out with Marinette, Nino, and Alya. With Chloé, Adrien played chess and dressed up as Ladybug and Chat Noir in the costumes she’d had professionally made.

And he’d somehow convinced her to write a letter of apology to the real Ladybug. Chloé had written that she was sorry--sorry that Ladybug was a fashion disaster. But she did say she regretted working with Hawkmoth, so that was good enough for Ladybug. Adrien wasn’t sure if Ladybug had forgiven the girl or whether Chloé really deserved forgiveness.

She certainly didn’t deserve _access_ to Ladybug and of that Adrien was sure.

“Thanks, Chlo,” Adrien said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I missed you, too.”

“It’s only been two weeks, but now that we’re in different schools, I hardly ever get to see you,” she whined. “Thank goodness for your father’s playdates.”

Adrien didn’t know how to feel about that. He wasn’t grateful, necessarily, for his father dictating whom Adrien got to spend time with, but he was glad to see Chloé and Kagami on Fridays. 

“How’s school at Louis-le-Grand?” Adrien asked, tilting his head.

Chloé pulled back from his neck and waved a hand in front of his face. “Augh, it’s fine, it’s always fine. Better than _Dupont_ , for sure. I can’t believe you’re still going to lycée in the same place we went to collège. I know it’s a combined campus, but really, Adrikins,” she said, patting his cheek, “you know Dupont isn’t good enough for you.”

“I like Dupont,” Adrien insisted, though he liked it less now that he wasn’t in class with any of his friends.

“At least Sabrina followed me.” Chloé gave a dramatic little sniff. “But we’re off topic! I have something for you!”

Adrien perked up. “You do? What’s the occasion?” 

“Adrien Agreste,” Chloé said, giving him a look that was a perfect blend of skepticism and horror. “Don’t tell me you forgot your birthday is today?”

The words reminded Adrien of what Marinette had said to him the night before. Lost in memories of Marinette’s love, he beamed at Chloé. “Of course I didn’t forget,” he said, shrugging. “I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Chloé winced. “What did your father get you?”

Adrien’s lips tugged down at the corners. “He’s back to giving me pens. Nathalie presented it to me before they left for Milan on Wednesday.”

 _At least I’ll be able to write in Marinette’s notebook with it,_ Adrien thought, his heart warm.

“I’m sorry, Adrikins,” Chloé consoled, leaning her head on his shoulder. He cupped the back of her head, threading his fingers into the strands of her hair crimped by her ponytail. 

“It’s fine,” he said, sighing. “I should have recognized that the scarf was a one-off.”

Chloé pursed her lips. “Well, _I_ got you a great gift.” She pulled back, pushing off of him and almost knocking him over. She sauntered over to her bedroom, and she returned with a present wrapped in paper that looked like euros sewn together. For all he knew, that’s exactly what the wrapping paper was.

“Here,” Chloé said, beaming as she offered him the gift.

Adrien smiled back at her. “Thanks, Chlo.” He kissed her cheek and tore into the gift, scattering euro-looking paper everywhere. The present was a black leather zip top pouch with gold accents, embossed with a floral pattern that might be found on a wallpaper in Marie Antoinette’s sitting room. “Oh, it’s--”

“It’s a murse,” Chloé stated, her grin proud and self-satisfied. 

“You got me a man purse?” Adrien said, chuckling. Having done modeling for almost four years, since he was twelve, Adrien was familiar with fashion lingo like ‘murse.’ He looked over the present. “It’s… very well constructed. And I like the black. Thanks, Chlo.”

“Guess how much Daddy spent on it,” Chloé bleated, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“Um...” Adrien turned the murse over. “A hundred euros?”

“Waaay too low,” Chloé said, her smug grin morphing into an even more smug smirk.

“Two hundred?” 

“Try six!” Chloé crowed triumphantly. “Six sixty-five, to be precise.”

Adrien stared at her, stunned. “That’s way too much.”

“Not for my oldest friend, it’s not!” Chloé said, patting his shoulder. “That’s a genuine Versace barocco zip pouch. I had it imported.”

“Versace?” When Adrien was modeling, he’d never paid attention to the brands he’d worn. But Gianni Versace was such a famous Italian designer, Adrien thought he recalled hearing about him. _Isn’t that the one with a twenty-three hundred euro backpack?_

“Yep,” Chloé trilled, tapping his chin. “Versace.” 

Adrien knew he shouldn’t be surprised. This was the same girl who routinely ate foie gras and white truffles for snacks. The boy cleared his throat. “That’s sweet of you, Chlo.”

Chloé wasn’t done. “Look inside.” 

With trepidation, Adrien unzipped the pouch and rummaged around inside. He extracted an oval locket on a chain--which he assumed was solid gold, based on the coloring and Chloé’s extravagance. He popped the locket open, only to see a close up picture of Chloé’s head, her lips pursed in a kiss to the camera. She was wearing the Chat Noir mask and ears and black lipstick.

“Oh...” Adrien cleared his throat again. “Thanks, Chlo, that’ll remind me of, uh, you.”

She looked really good in the Chat Noir suit, whenever she wore it. The professionally-tailored leather was meant to fit Sabrina, not Chloé, who was significantly taller and curvier than her friend.

Lost in thought, Adrien found himself clearing his throat for a third time. His cheeks burned. 

Chloé trailed her fingers along his collarbones with the same familiar intimacy that she’d always been afforded. “Here, let me put the locket on you.”

Adrien shivered at the touch. “Th-Thanks, Chlo,” Adrien said, and he reluctantly handed her the pendant. She stood behind him and looped the chain around his neck. 

Adrien went tense; having someone at his back made him feel surprisingly vulnerable. He took a breath to try and steady himself and keep calm. _Chloé's a good friend. It's okay._

She fastened the clasp with a _click_ , before crossing around to stand in front of him.

He peered down at the locket, which he’d never closed, and shut it between his thumb and index finger. She leaned on him again, toying with the short hairs at the back of his neck. His skin crawled. “So,” she said, smiling, “chess?”

Adrien nodded twice, desperately relieved to find a distraction that didn’t involve her putting her hands on him. “I’d love that.”

Chloé released him and crossed to her closet. Adrien followed. She retrieved the chessboard, and she set the game up on the dining room table.

Adrien had a habit of assigning people to his black chess pieces. Ladybug was, naturally, the queen, and Chat Noir was the king. He often lost against Chloé--Hawkmoth--and her king, Miracle Queen. The boy tended to throw Chat in front of Ladybug--even attempting to put himself in check--and not let her do her job. 

The first game Adrien played that day against Hawkmoth-Chloé, he made the same mistake. The second game, he put up more of a fight. But then Hawkmoth captured his rook, Nino, and Ladybug, and things went downhill from there.

Now, in the midst of the third game, Adrien eyed the playing field. Hawkmoth still had Evillstrator, Stormy Weather, and Copycat, among other powerful pieces, and most of her pawns. Adrien was down to half of Madame Bustier’s class. 

He was going to lose. But he still had Ladybug, a point in his favor.

And he had both Nino and Alya, his rooks. 

Adrien pressed his lips together, quickly making a plan. He’d box Hawkmoth in, giving her no chance to weasel her way out of his attack. He’d lose, but he’d take as many pieces down with him as he could. 

Adrien maneuvered Nino and Alya into position, taking Stormy Weather in the process. Hawkmoth countered by threatening Ladybug with Copycat. Adrien Lucky Charmed him into submission. 

After a few more trades, he started to come out on top. Adrien realized… he could win.

The boy grinned at Hawkmoth. “You’re going down.”

“You’re kidding me,” she said, raising a plucked brow. She gestured to the board. “I’ve got you running scared.”

“Nope,” Adrien said, popping the p. “You’re going to lose.”

Hawkmoth smirked at him. “We’ll see.”

Adrien fought, and he fought hard. Ladybug and Queen Wasp went head to head, with Ladybug triumphant. She blazed across the board, destroying Hawkmoth’s defenses, picking them apart in a game of attrition.

The boy boxed Hawkmoth in, forcing her to give up ground. But Chloé scrabbled for pieces just as hard as he did. By the end, Adrien was down to eight pieces himself, including Chat Noir, whereas Chloé had several more than that.

But then the tides changed. Adrien took her last pawn, exposing her king. 

He swooped in for the kill and moved Nino into position.

Adrien waited with bated breath to see if Hawkmoth would fall into his trap.

She did. Taking the bait and trying to capture Nino, she overextended her akumas, leaving Miracle Queen unprotected. Adrien let loose his breath.

“Checkmate,” Adrien claimed, gently placing Ladybug’s piece down onto the board. The sound of the antique brass piece clacking against the polished walnut board was like quiet thunder. 

Chloé--truly Chloé now, no longer Hawkmoth--pouted at him. “No fair,” she whined, folding her arms.

“No?” Adrien said, sticking his hand out. “It was a good game, Chlo. I thought I was going to lose pretty often.”

Chloé scowled at his hand, but she eventually shook it. “You’ve won one out of three. Another round?”

“You’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Plagg makes some demands and Dr. Pemberley confronts Adrien about his "repressed anger problem."

Without back-to-back photoshoots to occupy his time, Adrien’s weekends were relatively low-key.

And very boring.

His father was still in Milan with Nathalie, and the house had never seemed more empty. Or peaceful. 

He didn’t miss his father, not exactly. But Adrien did miss Nathalie. He didn’t realize how much he relied on her to wake him up until she was gone. He had to set not one, not two, but _three_ alarms, and even then, Plagg had to rouse him from deep slumbering more than once. And checking his own schedule, even if there was less on it now that he’d quit modeling, was a nightmare. 

Nathalie hadn't left him to his own devices. For the month that she and Gabriel would be away, she had organized every minute of his life into a schedule--including playdates with Chloe and Kagami. Adrien assumed that the Gorilla, or one of the Bourgeois assistants, was reporting on his activities.

But despite being scheduled to play piano, he’d spent most of Saturday flirting with Marinette via video call. He’d hit her with cat pun after cat pun until she’d declared enough was enough, and laughingly hung up on him. 

Adrien next spent some time doodling stick figures with pigtails in the notebook Marinette had given him for his birthday. He took great pleasure in reading the positive quotes and affirmations, his new favorites being, _“You are loving and lovable,”_ and _“Our relationship is built on compassion and trust.”_

The rest of the clothes she had given him were hung up in his closet, and he was currently wearing the sweatpants, one of the more comfortable shirts, and his wristbands.

Chloé’s presents, a black, embossed leather murse and a gold locket holding a selfie of her, had also been relegated to his closet. But he’d set them in a place of honor: next to the shoes he liked wearing the most, his orange Converse-knockoffs that he’d insisted on wearing when asked to promote the brand.

That night, Chat went out to dinner, eating fried chicken at Ellsworth. The herbed buttermilk dipping sauce exploded on his tongue with flavors, making him moan out of sheer bliss. Eating as Chat was an experience, and he treasured every moment of voraciously tucking away five chicken breasts and two drumsticks. In return for the free meal, Chat gladly Instagrammed his food, using the waiter’s phone to avoid triggering the tracking software on Adrien’s, which he’d left at his civilian house.

He couldn’t call that cold, beautiful, empty space a home. Not really. Not anymore.

But after dinner, he returned to the Agreste manor anyway. After scribbling down some puns to hit Marinette with later in his notebook, Adrien curled up on his couch with his knitting and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. Edward Elric was just attempting to resurrect his mother when Plagg floated in front of the TV.

“Plagg? What--”

“Call off patrol tonight,” Plagg said. His words weren’t a suggestion: they were an order.

Adrien immediately set his knitting aside and paused the anime. He checked the clock on the wall; patrol was supposed to be at nine p.m., in two hours. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

“We’re having a night in, that’s all,” Plagg said, with a shifty expression. “I want one.”

Adrien blinked at his kwami. “Are you tired?”

“No,” Plagg said, not meeting Adrien’s eye.

“Then are you hungry?” 

That brought a bitter laugh from Plagg’s throat. “When am I not?”

Adrien frowned. “Then what’s the problem?” 

Plagg gripped his elbow, crossing his flipper across his tiny body. Adrien had never seen the mini-god look so vulnerable. Normally, he was brash, with a confidence that rivaled Kagami’s. 

But now, something was terribly wrong. Plagg’s apparent fragility was unsettling. “Plagg,” Adrien whispered, cupping his hands to allow his kwami a perch, “what’s wrong?”

Plagg’s gaze flicked to Adrien’s palms. The cat kwami flew over, landing on them, and rubbed his head all over Adrien’s thumb. “Plagg…”

Plagg finally answered the question, his words escaping him in a strained whisper. “I… I’m lonely.”

Adrien gasped. _Lonely?_ the boy thought, with growing horror. _He’s lonely?_

“I’m so sorry, Plagg,” Adrien murmured, scratching behind his cat-like ears. Plagg let out a sound that was suspiciously close to purring. “I have been neglecting you lately, haven’t I?”

Plagg nodded, sniffling. Adrien smelled ozone and grass and was terrified that his kwami might cry. “I mean, you’ve been busy?” Plagg said, raising his head. “And I understand. You’ve got Marinette to spend time with, and I mean, it’s not like I’m more important than she is, or important at all--”

“You’re important to me, Plagg!” Adrien yelled, his baritone voice cracking into an alto. He stood and started pacing, his fingers desperately scratching behind Plagg’s ears. “I am so, so sorry. I never meant to make you feel less valuable than you are. I love you.”

“You’re only saying that because I transform you into Chat Noir,” Plagg muttered, and Adrien could detect resentment slightly coloring the words. The boy was shocked. “You like the freedom the miraculous gives you.”

“No, no, not at all! I mean, I do like the freedom, but that’s not why you’re important to me,” Adrien said, drawing a deep breath through his nose before continuing. “Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve given me advice and made me feel better when I’m doing rotten. You’ve been a steadying presence in my life. And speaking of feeling lonely: I’m never lonely when I’m hanging out with you. You’re indispensable.” 

Plagg looked up, sniffling again. “Really?”

“Really, really,” Adrien confirmed, smiling. Then he frowned. “And I’m sorry that I made it so you couldn’t see that. That’s super uncool of me.”

Plagg huffed. “I understand, though. You really have been busy.”

Adrien rubbed his cheek against Plagg’s tiny one. “That’s still no excuse. Hawkmoth hasn’t been around for a whole week--there’s no reason for me not to have spent time with you.”

“Well,” Plagg drawled, floating up near Adrien’s eyes. “We can rectify that.”

Adrien beamed at him. “What do you want to do?”

Plagg flew over to their game console. “Can we play Extreme Racing 3?”

Adrien leapt over the couch and sat down, picking up his controller. “I would love to.”

***

“I am concerned,” Dr. Pemberley said, making a note on her legal pad, “about your repressed anger problem, Adrien.”

“What are you talking about?” Adrien retorted, clenching his fists on his sweatpants. His chest ached; a rock had taken up residence behind his breastbone. And he was close to hyperventilating. “I don’t repress my anger.”

At Dr. Pemberley's request, Adrien had been listing all the ways his father had harmed him. The suggestion was the first step in forgiveness: acknowledging the hurt. He was still near the top of said list, recounting the way his father only spoke when he had something critical to say, when the boy started panting. He didn't know why.

“Your body reacts to the feelings you have before you consciously realize you have them,” Dr. Pemberley explained, watching him carefully. “And you do stuff your emotions, Adrien. You always have.”

The boy bit his lip, removing his sweaty hand from his pants to rub at his chest. “My chest hurts.”

“I’m not surprised,” Dr. Pemberley said, tapping her pen on her pad of papers. “This is you being hurt, Adrien. This is you reacting to injustices. Why are you not allowing yourself to feel violated?”

Adrien frantically drew a breath through his nose. And another. And another. He wasn’t calming down. “I… I don’t know.”

“I have a guess,” Dr. Pemberley said, tilting her head. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Please,” Adrien croaked.

“You’re afraid,” the therapist said, not without sympathy. “You’re scared that this will somehow get back to your father, that somehow I will betray your confidence and inform the man that you disapprove.”

“I’m--” Adrien started, but Dr. Pemberley held up a hand.

“Regardless of who tells him, you are terrified that your father will love you less if he knows you disapprove of his actions,” Dr. Pemberley said. “He shows you a lack of parental love and that makes you angry. As it should.”

Dr. Pemberley’s words skewered Adrien. Was he upset? He didn’t think he was, but his gulping for air told him otherwise.

Dr. Pemberley continued. “But you stuff your emotions, because you’ve always managed other people’s feelings. You’ve worried about what your father feels, and since he cannot handle people being vulnerable around him, you refuse to allow him to see you in a fragile state.”

That did sound right. Adrien rubbed at his still-painful chest and nodded. “So how do I stop doing that?”

“Do you remember our conversation about boundaries?”

“Sort of,” Adrien said, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood his face. _Will she be disappointed in me?_ He cursed himself. _I knew I should have taken notes._

Dr. Pemberley did not appear disappointed. She was as neutral as ever. Her expression didn’t even flicker. “That’s all right,” she said, and the rock in Adrien’s chest shifted to give him a little more breathing room. “I wanted you to take away how to recognize when your boundaries have been violated from that session. We can review, if you like?”

“Please,” Adrien pleaded, sucking down life-giving oxygen. He was dizzy and starting to get a headache.

“This feeling of pain in your chest, this inability to breathe, and the way you find yourself clenching your fists without meaning to...” Dr. Pemberley started. “Those are all ways your body expresses feelings that you’re stuffing. When he crosses a line, you may feel sick, or a pit in your stomach.”

Adrien shivered. He’d certainly felt that around his father, more and more as of late. “And I’m… not supposed to dismiss those feelings? Isn’t that what you said?”

“It is, Adrien.” Dr. Pemberley smiled. “Very good.”

Adrien puffed up under the praise. But he deflated when she continued speaking.

“You often dismiss the effect other people have on you, and I’m assuming that’s especially true when it comes to your father,” the therapist said, tapping her lips with a finger. “That’s unhealthy, Adrien. That enables him to have more power over you than he should.”

Adrien dropped his gaze and stared at his feet. He didn’t want to look Dr. Pemberley in the eye. He didn’t want to face this uncomfortable truth: that he was enabling his father to exercise authority over him because Adrien was too afraid to set boundaries. “What do I do?” he said to his shoes.

“Do you remember the steps to setting boundaries with your father?”

Adrien thought back. He did recall some of them, but there were a lot of steps. “Consider my approach, using ‘I’ statements so he doesn’t get defensive,” the boy restated, counting the steps off on his fingers. “Set consequences for violating my boundaries, like not talking to him. Don’t take his reaction personally. That will be hard.”

Dr. Pemberley nodded. “For you? Very,” she said. “What are the last steps? I’ll give you a hint: We talked about the fourth just now.”

“Fourth,” Adrien said, adding a fourth finger, “don’t ignore the signs of a crossed boundary.” He blinked. “And I don’t remember the fifth step at all.”

“Please remember that ‘No’ is a complete sentence.”

Adrien glanced at her. “Oh.”

“Like I said then, setting boundaries doesn’t mean you have to fight,” Dr. Pemberley said gently, assuaging his knee-jerk reaction to the word ‘fight.’ “And asserting your boundaries becomes easier the more you practice.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Adrien lamented, twisting his fingers in a tight grip.

“You can,” Dr. Pemberley confirmed, making another note. “And you will. I’m giving you homework from this session: set a boundary with your father. It doesn’t have to be huge. In fact, for your first one, the smaller the better.”

Adrien sucked a breath over his teeth. “I don’t know what that would be.”

“You’ll think of something,” Dr. Pemberley said, smiling again. “I believe in you, Adrien Agreste.”

She believed in him. That small admission sent Adrien rocketing up to cloud nine. He clenched his fist in front of him, prepared to tell Dr. Pemberley that he could implement her advice.

Then his father’s stern face flashed across Adrien’s mind, and he came crashing back to earth. When she’d praised him, he was so excited that he didn’t fully comprehend what he was agreeing to. Adrien shrank back into the couch and whispered meekly, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can,” Dr. Pemberley declared. “You are strong and stubborn. It’s time for you to fight for what you believe in, Adrien.”

 _Yeah._ Adrien furrowed his brow. _Yeah. She’s right._

“Okay!” Adrien cried, standing up from the couch. “I can do this. I _can_. Thank you, Dr. Pemberley.”

“Anytime, Adrien.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien deals with an offensive teacher and Chat eats lunch out with Ladybug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late chapter! My husband's grandfather died recently, and my husband flew across the country for the funeral, leaving me alone with the kids for eight days. 
> 
> I don't have much time to write or update chapters, unfortunately, so I hope you'll be patient with me! Thank you!

“Who can tell me the longest novel ever published by a French author?” Monsieur Legrand sneered, towering over a seated Adrien during his homeroom class on Wednesday. The man swept his arms across the class, and the boy flinched away, both to avoid being struck and to try to not be swamped with the stench of Legrand’s body odor. “Anyone? Anyone at all?”

The class stayed silent. No one, including Adrien, raised their hand. He glanced down at the journal Marinette had given him for his birthday six days ago.

“Are you all as thick as I think you are?” the teacher fumed, whirling around and pointing to each of them in turn. “Any takers? Can _anyone_ give me hope that you all aren’t the worst students to grace a classroom?”

Adrien frowned. “ _Cyrus the Great_ by Mademoiselle de Scudery?” he said, sticking his neck out. Someone had to speak up. Otherwise Monsieur Legrand would just continue picking apart the students.

“No, you fool,” Monsieur Legrand snapped, spinning to face Adrien. “Good try, I guess. At least you’re not afraid of me like the rest of these useless ingrates.” He scoffed. “ _It’s Men of Good Will_ by Jules Romains. _Cyrus the Great_ is a mere one million, nine hundred thousand words; _Men of Good Will_ is over two million.”

Adrien had never heard of that novel. He didn’t know what the point was of learning which novel was the longest. 

“The longest novel, on the other hand,” Monsieur Legrand said, eyes bright, “was an English book titled _Marienbad My Love_ , by Mark Leach. It’s seventeen million, eight hundred thousand words long, spread over seventeen volumes.”

Once again, dead silence plagued the class. The teacher wasn’t daunted. 

“Can you imagine?” he said, seeming to grow more and more excited. “Writing seventeen _million_ words, and having them work as a coherent story? I myself only write four hundred a day, but so does Stephen King, and he’s prolific!”

 _Ah,_ Adrien thought, somewhat uncharitably. _He’s a writer._

Monsieur Legrand extolled the virtues of a daily writing routine, “not that any of you numbskulls would be able to follow one.”

By the time the next class rolled around, Adrien was tired of being insulted. He didn’t dislike any of his other teachers, just Monsieur Legrand. The man was unpleasant in the best of circumstances, and Adrien often wondered how the man became a teacher--and why, since he seemed to hate the profession and his students so much.

The rest of Adrien’s classes passed in a blur, and Adrien had never been more grateful for lunch. 

Alya was eating at Nino's house today, so Nino could introduce her to his parents. Adrien and Marinette made plans to go out as Chat and Ladybug. The idea was to post pictures of their food on Chat’s Instagram in exchange for a free meal. 

After meeting just outside the school, they quickly transformed and headed over to Mayfair Garden, an Indian-Pakistani restaurant. Chat ordered the coconut curry shrimp and Ladybug had the rava dosas with potato chickpea masala.

Using the waiter’s phone, Chat took a candid shot of his Lady, captioning it “Gorgeous, right? #blessed #DinnerPawtrol,” fueling the fires of speculation on the Ladyblog as to whether the two superheroes were dating.

She’d not worn her Eiffel Tower pendant or her ring, but he was wearing his wristbands, which he’d taken to school in his book bag.

“What are you typing, Chat?” Ladybug said, her eyes crinkling as she beamed at him. She took another bite of her Indian-style crepe, humming her approval. 

She was still working her way through her first serving of food; Chat had already finished two. She’d told him he ate too quickly, but ever since he’d starved, he’d had the bad habit of shoving everything into his mouth as fast as he could.

And because he was eating, he considered his New Stash once again. He had enough food to make it through an entire month, which he’d started to believe was enough.

“Oh, you know,” Chat said, showing her the post on Instagram. “Just the most beautiful woman in all of Paris, enjoying Indian food with the most eligible bachelor.”

Ladybug snorted. “You’re a hopeless romantic, Kitty. You know we can’t date.”

Chat grinned at her. Ladybug’s objections were for the public’s ears only; he knew he owned her heart.

“Would you humor this poor soul?” he flirted, fluttering his eyelashes. He snuck another photo of her, and he captioned it similarly to the first, with the same hashtags. “After all, it’s not every day I get to eat lunch with someone so wonderful.”

Cameras around them flashed. Chat didn’t know how the press had gotten wind of his and Ladybug’s outing, but photographers had come out in full force. He knew the newspapers and gossip magazines would be swimming with pictures of the two superheroes tomorrow.

The last time a reporter had been so bold as to interrupt their meal, she’d been soundly trounced by the owner of the restaurant and banned from ever returning. The press corps had quickly rallied, striking a deal with Chat that they could take pictures but not approach for interviews.

“Chat,” Ladybug said, around a mouthful of crepe. She chewed and swallowed. “I wanted to get your opinion on our dear friend and his absence lately.”

Chat knew whom she meant, even with her being oblique as she was. He was fairly certain the photographers did, too, as they inched closer. Shutters snapped.

“I know,” Chat said lowly, frowning. He beamed as the waiter returned with a third plate of curry for him. 

“Thank you,” Chat told the waiter, and then he turned back to Ladybug. He took another picture of his food, captioning it properly. “I’m a bit worried about him, honestly. It’s been two and a half weeks; he’s never been quiet this long.”

“Yes,” Ladybug said, spearing a potato with her fork. “What do you think happened to him?”

Once his Instagram post was complete, Chat started tucking into his meal. He devoured half of it before answering. “I think our other friend is right. I think he’s planning something.”

Ladybug pursed her lips. Chat wanted to kiss them smooth again. _That determined expression is gorgeous,_ he thought. _Gosh, I love her._

She ate the potato. “I just don’t know. I have no idea what he could be thinking,” she fretted, chewing and swallowing. “I mean, I try _not_ to get into his head? But he hasn’t been this quiet since the very beginning.” She frowned. “And I’m worried about the Parisians.”

“Parisians are tough,” Chat said, shoving shrimp into his mouth. He gulped down the food. “This city will be fine, you’ll see.”

“I don’t know,” Ladybug said, stabbing her food in a fit of pique. “I wonder if the people will be able to handle the tension. I’ve already noticed how uncomfortable everyone is.”

“Yeah,” Chat agreed, scooping rice onto his fork. “The waiting is pretty unbearable.”

“Maybe that’s just it,” Ladybug mused, sitting up straighter. “Maybe he’s trying to psyche us out. Maybe he’s waiting for us to let our guards down, and then he’ll strike, just when we least expect it.”

Chat chuckled. “I don’t think he’s that clever. Maybe he’s just out of town?”

Ladybug sagged in her seat. “That’s a possibility,” she said, pushing her chickpeas around on her plate.

“Don’t get down, Bugaboo,” Chat encouraged, reaching across the table to take her hand. On instinct, he brought her fingers to his lips. The cameras around them rapidly snapped photos. “He’ll get back to throwing his akumas at us soon enough. And we’ll defeat them, just like we always have.” Chat smiled at her. “After all, we’re a team, right? An unstoppable team.”

Ladybug smiled. “Thanks, Chat. Your confidence helps.”

“Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Marinette teaches Adrien something very important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, there! I am so sorry I missed Sunday's chapter. I was so excited to write for the first time in a week that by the time I'd finished my new one shot, I'd forgotten to update Heart. Many apologies.
> 
> My husband is back and I am no longer left alone with the kids, so I should be back to my regular posting schedule. 
> 
> Thanks for your patience!
> 
> -Cass

Marinette’s favorite place to shove Adrien against was the one flat wall in her bedroom, right next to her pink vanity, which she pushed out of the way. They ended up there as they kissed on Thursday, Adrien moaning into her mouth and frantically cupping the back of her head to pull her closer. Her Eiffel Tower pendant pressed into his chest.

She caged him in with her hands, pressing her palms against the wall around his head. Parting his weak knees with one of her own, Marinette opened her lips and glided them across his, encouraging him to tease her with his tongue. 

Adrien took advantage of the opportunity, pinning her tongue against the roof of her mouth and then letting it loose again. Marinette licked his teeth, shooting fire through him. She tasted of watermelon lip gloss and strawberries with sugar. 

Her questing hands found his scalp and scratched in small circles, making him groan into her mouth. The delicious pressure of her blunt nails thrilled him, and her tongue touching his made Adrien see stars behind his closed eyelids. 

Marientte drew her nails down his body, making him gasp. She grasped his white overshirt at the shoulders and pulled back from his lips, her smoldering gaze expectant. He nodded, panting, and she practically tore the shirt off his toned arms. She discarded the cloth, dropping it heedlessly on the floor. _Hot,_ Adrien thought, cupping her cheeks to kiss her again.

She snaked her hands under his black, cotton undershirt and stroked his abs, making him shiver. Adrien lifted his arms, backing off from her lips so she could remove the clothing. She obliged, popping the shirt off his head and mussing his hair in the process. He didn’t know if he was ready to shed clothing, but he was happily taking the step.

Marientte stepped back to look at what he had to offer her. Adrien had had photos taken of him shirtless before, but this was totally different. He’d always known on some level that his body was desirable, but this was the first time he felt wanted. Her eyes on him were _hungry_ , full of burning admiration and love.

Adrien gazed at her in turn, amazed by her kiss-swollen lips and apple-red cheeks. Marinette’s hair was down, her hairbands having come loose in the struggle. _Beautiful,_ he thought, until she stepped towards him again, gently dragging her nails down his bare chest, and he could think no more.

He gripped her forearms, dragging her close to him, capturing her lips again. Adrien crushed Marinette’s chest against his and clung to her back, his fingertips pressing into her black jacket. Her tiny hands felt hot against his chest, fingers rubbing circles on his skin. 

Marinette broke the kiss abruptly, only to move her head down to his sternum and trail kisses from there to his navel, her hands sliding down from his ribs to his hips. Trembling, he bumped his head on the wall. “Whoa,” he said, his voice sounding thick and husky to his ears. “That’s… Whoa…” 

“Do you not like it?” Marinette asked, gazing up at him with hooded eyes.

He swallowed. And cleared his throat, trying to still his spinning mind. “I do, but…” He’d tug on his collar, but his shirt was on the floor. “This is super hot, but I-I don’t know, maybe we should slow down before we get into trouble?”

Marinette licked her lips. She nodded and straightened up. “Okay.”

“No, I mean,” Adrien started, still shaking like a leaf. He didn’t know why he was quivering, he just was. “I do want you. Badly. But… I don’t want to do something that would irrevocably change our relationship.” He gulped. “I mean… Shouldn’t we wait until we’re married or something? Are you really ready for this?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. She bit her lip, and then shook her head. “No, I’m not,” she lamented, taking one step back from him. Air rushed into the space she’d occupied, and Adrien sucked down life-giving and brain-centering oxygen. “Adrien. Look at me.”

He already was looking at her. He peered at her some more and raised his brows. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want you to make out with me because you feel obligated and...” Marinette reached out and then pulled back. “...you don’t know how to say no. I don’t want to be a… a _Lila_.”

Adrien sucked a breath over his teeth. “Never.” His tone was bordering on a snarl. “You could never be a Lila.” 

Before the assault, Lila had sexually harassed Adrien, running her hands all over him and rubbing her butt against his hips. This was condoned by the photographer and his father because Adrien was a model, and Lila was Gabriel’s muse. The forced kiss was where the adults drew the line, and Lila was ousted from photoshoots. Shortly afterwards, Adrien had quit modeling, as he no longer wished to be objectified for the pleasure of other people.

Marinette sighed. Her hands fluttered around her face like caged birds with nowhere to go. “I just don’t want you to be at all reluctant, you know? I want you to consent at one hundred percent levels, not eighty or seventy-five.”

“I consent!” Adrien declared, taking her hands in his. “I’ll always consent to you.”

“I’m flattered, but you’re proving my point,” Marinette said, her lips twitching. He couldn’t tell if she was sad or amused. “That’s not how consent works.”

“How does it work?” Adrien asked, frowning as he glanced down at his wristbands. “I’ve only picked up the term from osmosis. My learning about… this topic has been very, uh, hands on.”

Unadulterated horror filled Marinette’s eyes. “You’ve never been told about consent?”

Adrien stared at her. “That’s a whole thing? I thought consent was just a verb.”

Marinette gently disengaged from his grip so she could cover her mouth. She made a frustrated squeak into her palms. Then she laced her fingers through his again, her own hands shaking. “No. Consent is a Thing. It’s an agreement between people to make out and do, um, other things related to making out.”

“How does it work?” Adrien said, furrowing his brow. “Have I been agreeing wrong?”

“Consent can be verbal or physical,” Marinette clarified, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Adrien didn’t know what had made her so nervous. “But verbally agreeing to different, um, activities helps both partners to respect each other’s boundaries.”

“Very technical,” Adrien said, offering her a small smile he hoped was encouraging. “Go on?”

Marinette shook her head, her hair bouncing with the motion. “Consent is all about communication. And it should happen _every time._ Just because you said yes to my taking your shirt off this time, doesn’t mean I get to do it next time.”

“And when you paused and looked at me beforehand, and I nodded, I was giving consent,” Adrien realized.

“Yes, exactly,” Marinette verified, stepping closer to him again. He breathed in her chocolate-coffee scent, feeling his tense shoulders relax. “And you can change your mind at any time. I _want_ you to speak up if you’re uncomfortable. The best way to ensure that we’re both comfortable is to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Adrien said, releasing one hand of hers so he could lean over and pick up his undershirt. “How do I talk about this sort of thing?”

“If you want to do something, you enthusiastically agree,” Marinette said, stooping to pick up his white overshirt. She shook the fabric out, ostensibly trying to clear it of wrinkles. “Or you say something like, ‘I’m open to trying.’”

“Ah.” Adrien pushed his arms through the sleeves of his black undershirt. He pulled the shirt over his head. “Or use physical cues.”

“Right,” Marinette confirmed, holding his overshirt out to him. “And when you change the degree or type of activity, you want to check in with the other person. Like moving on to shedding clothing. I should have asked, ‘Is this okay?’ I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“That’s all right,” Adrien said, taking the shirt and slipping it on. “We didn’t need to use words.”

“It still would have been a good idea to do so,” Marinette murmured, looking to her feet. She gripped her elbow, shrinking into herself. 

Adrien wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Hey,” he whispered. “You did great. I had a lot of fun. And it was definitely consensual.”

Marinette raised her eyes to his, offering him a soft smile. “I’m glad, Adrien.”

Adrien smiled back at her. “And we can use words from now on, okay?”

“Physical cues are fine, too,” she said, letting go of her elbow. “As long as we both want, um, the makeout session. I really do want you to be able to speak up.”

“I will,” Adrien said, grasping her chin. “May I kiss you?”

“Please,” Marinette said, eyes twinkling. Holding her chin, he pecked her lips, and she laughed. “Tease.”

Adrien beamed down at her. “What can I say? I’m incorrigible.”

“Hey, I thought I was the bad influence in our relationship,” Marinette teased, grinning up at him. 

Adrien let go of her chin and pinched his nose, right near his forehead. “Ugh, don’t remind me about my father not approving of us. That’s a buzz kill for sure.”

Marinette’s smile turned a shade bitter. Adrien didn’t like the look of that expression on her and smoothed his thumb over her lips.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “He doesn’t seem to approve of yo--a lot of things. Why should our relationship be any different?”

Adrien caught the slip and wondered what she had been going to say. “I never know what he’s thinking. Dr. Pemberley told me… that his loving me is a myth.”

Marinette’s eyes softened. She placed a hand on Adrien’s clean-shaven cheek. “And what do you think about that, Adrien?”

Adrien couldn’t meet her gentle gaze. He closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay not to know,” Marinette assured, her fingers stroking his cheekbone. “That sort of thing is difficult to wrap one’s head around.”

He hesitated, biting his lip. His voice came out in a low murmur, as if by speaking the words too loudly, he’d summon Gabriel to punish him. “I don’t think he loves me at all.”

He felt Marinette wrap her strong arms around him, enfolding him in a firm embrace. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t cry over his father, but his tear ducts betrayed him. Fat, salty droplets spilled over his cheeks, even though he screwed his eyes shut to try to stem the flow. 

Adrien felt Marinette’s soft lips kissing his tears away. He gave a long, drawn out sniff before opening his eyes. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, Adrien,” Marinette reassured, brushing her nose against his and moving her head back and forth. “That’s a hard conclusion to come to, you know? It’s painful to think that a parent doesn’t want the best for you. I don’t blame you for hurting.”

Was he hurting? Adrien decided that he was. “I just don’t understand why he’s like this. I mean, he used to be better? I think?” Adrien heaved a sigh. “I think he was better, anyway.”

“You have a bad habit of seeing people with rose-colored glasses.” Marinette pulled back to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I’m hurting with you.”

“Don’t hurt on my account,” Adrien said quickly. “This is going nowhere, so let’s change the topic. What should we do once we, um, makeout too much?”

Marinette chuckled. “We should stop?”

“Yes,” Adrien agreed, tugging on his collar. “But how do we stop? We speak up, right?”

“Absolutely,” Marientte said, kissing his cheek. “If you’re ever uncomfortable with something we’re doing, just say ‘stop’ or ‘no,’ and we’ll stop.”

Adrien gave her a thumbs up. “Will do.”

“‘No’ means ‘no,’ Adrien,” Marinette insisted, fixing him with a stern look. “And ‘stop’ means ‘stop.’ I will always respect your ‘no’ or ‘stop,’ and I expect you to respect mine. Do you understand?”

“I got it,” Adrien mumbled, tripping over his own tongue. He rubbed the back of his head. “This is super important, isn’t it?”

“It’s the most important thing about consent, yeah,” Marinette said, nodding rapidly. “And in the event you think you can’t say no… Have you ever heard of a safeword?”

“No…”

“A safeword is a specific word arranged ahead of time that ends the activity. It’s something that we can use if we’re ever uncomfortable but don’t know how to express that,” Marinette said, licking her lips. Adrien pecked them again. He couldn’t help himself; she was too cute. “Hey, I’m trying to explain.”

“Sorry,” Adrien said, abashed. “So a safeword is something we say if we want to stop making out?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, nodding firmly. “When one of us uses a safeword, we stop, discuss, reevaluate. And it should be something completely unrelated to makeouts. Preferably something silly, that will jolt us out of the, uh...” She waved a hand. “Headiness of it all.”

“Something like… croutons?” 

“What?” Marinette said, laughing. “Croutons? Really?”

“Sure,” Adrien said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Can you honestly say you’d want to continue making out if I started shouting ‘Croutons! Croutons!’” 

He grinned at her. She grinned back. “No, I guess not,” she said. “If you want, that can be our safeword.”

Croutons reminded him of Salad, which was his and Kagami’s word for secrets he couldn’t tell her when they were dating--mostly all things Chat Noir. That she even knew that he had secrets eased the burden on him. She had grown sick of Salad in the end, but she largely respected the fact that he had secrets and didn’t press him to reveal himself. 

And now Adrien and Marinette were using ‘croutons’ as their safeword. Adrien’s life had come full circle.

Adrien booped Marinette’s nose. “Nothing would please me more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien battles with Kagami and takes some good advice from Plagg.

“Par le fer,” Monsieur D’Argencourt said, as Kagami and Adrien squared up on the piste. The boy stared at his opponent through his mask, excitement building in his chest. Kagami always gave him a difficult fight, but from the set of her shoulders this Friday, he could tell that this would be one of her best. “Pret. Allez!”

Not wearing the electronic equipment, the two combatants launched themselves at each other, lunging forward with their powerful thighs to close the distance. The double lunge was a mistake; Adrien quickly pulled back, pushing Kagami’s blade aside in a professional parry. 

With a vicious single-mindedness that he’d come to expect from her, she parry-riposted. He returned the ambush. The two rivals quickly switched between attacking, defending, attacking, defending, back and forth faster than the eye could see, until Adrien backed down.

Kagami lunged again. Her back leg was straight, but she leaned into the attack by about forty-five degrees, her front leg bent to the point where her knee stood over her ankle. He parried, and she parry-riposted. She touched him and earned the point. He backed off again. 

They faced each other. D’Argencourt called them to action, and the match began anew. Kagami lunged. Adrien disengaged, moving the tip of his blade under hers to the other side. His maneuver was quick, with the absolute minimum of movement, using his fingers to make the tip of the blade duck around Kagami’s weapon. 

Adrien’s attack was a feint. He started at Kagami’s left side, forcing her to think she had to defend to the left. But then he lunged towards her right side so quickly, she didn’t have time to register the change and react to it with a parry. The edge of his sabre slapped her shoulder.

She pulled back and laughed darkly. Then he realized… she was just playing with him. Adrien was mildly offended but mostly amused. “Cut that out,” he said, under his breath.

She tilted her head, so he knew she’d heard him. 

D’Argencourt called the point to Adrien and encouraged them to face off again. “Pret. Allez!”

Kagami wasn’t playing anymore. She destroyed him. His ex-girlfriend systematically took him apart, jabbing her blade into his shoulder, his chest, his waist. She scored the last point on his back, somehow confusing him enough to have him turned around, overextending a lunge right past her. He whipped his head back to her so fast, his neck popped. 

“Match point,” D’Argencourt declared and took Kagami’s head to raise it over her head. “Kagami tastes victory today!”

Sweat was pouring down Adrien’s face in rivulets, but Kagami didn’t even seem winded. He stuck his hand out to shake Kagami’s. D’Argencourt released her, and she crossed to Adrien, taking his hand. 

The boy pumped their hands up and down three times, beaming under his mask. He raised the visor and laughed. “Good job, Kagami! You’ve really improved over the summer.”

“You haven’t,” she said, though from the lilt in her voice, Adrien could tell that she was just teasing him. Despite her words being true, they didn’t sting. “I told you to practice over the summer, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Adrien said, wishing she would raise her mask so he could see her freckles. Adrien loved her freckles. “But I’m not training for the Olympics, like you are.”

D’Argencourt thrust his pointer finger in the air. “My best students should _both_ train for only the highest-ranked competitions!”

Kagami faced the fencing teacher. “Don’t force him to do what he doesn’t want to do. If he doesn’t want to train for competitions, like me, then he doesn’t have to.”

Adrien stared at her, eyes wide. “Kagami…”

“Oh, of course,” D’Argencourt said, ducking his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kagami finally lifted her visor. She clearly wasn’t sweating; she didn’t even have droplets beading on her lips, which were curved into a smile. “You’ll catch up, Adrien Agreste.”

“I appreciate your faith in me,” Adrien said warmly, beaming at her. 

Later, while Adrien was cooling down on a bench in the locker rooms, Kagami approached with two bottles of water. She tucked one under her arm and uncapped the other, thrusting it out at him. “Drink. You lost fluid today.”

“Oh, no, you couldn’t smell me sweating, could you?” Adrien surreptitiously sniffed his armpit and scrunched up his nose. He stank. He vowed to take a shower as soon as he got home--which wouldn’t be until late, since today was his Friday playdate with Kagami.

“No,” Kagami said, pushing the bottle under his nose. “Your face was covered in sweat.”

Adrien took the bottle from her hand and drank deeply. He hated the taste of plain water, but ever since he’d told Kagami that no one ever reminded him to drink at home, she’d always encouraged him to stay hydrated.

Especially when he sweated up a storm after a fencing match.

“Thanks, Kagami,” Adrien said, after he’d guzzled down half the water bottle. “You really have improved. I’m very impressed!”

“Don’t let your hero-worship get in the way of your own improvement, Adrien,” Kagami said, shaking her head slightly. “I need you to get better, so I have a decent opponent to square up against.”

Adrien wilted. “Do… Do I disappoint you?”

Kagami’s amber eyes blinked at him. “No. While you’ve disappointed me in the past--” Adrien winced. “--today’s performance was well done. You were giving it your all, which is all I can ask from a partner.”

Adrien bit back the urge to suck a breath over his teeth. He hadn’t given it his all when they were dating, when they were truly partners. He’d fallen in love with Marinette while he was still ostensibly together with Kagami. And then Ladybug had kissed him as Adrien, which broke up both his relationship with Kagami and Marinette's with Luka.

Adrien looked up at the girl in front of him, heart twisting in his chest. She’d forgiven him for hurting her, but he had yet to forgive himself, even at the encouragement of Dr. Pemberley. A fat droplet escaped his tear ducts and rolled down his cheek, stunning him. 

Kagami cupped his cheek in a gloved hand, wiping away the tear with her thumb. “I don’t know what’s set you off, but I’ll have none of that.”

Adrien gave a long, drawn out sniff. He pulled away from her and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I… I was cruel to you.”

Kagami sighed. “Again: yes? Yes, you were?” she said, and he flinched. “But I have forgiven you.” She furrowed her brow. “Do you not trust me to make the right call when it comes to matters of my own heart?”

“Of course I do,” Adrien said quickly, letting his hands hang between his knees, still holding onto the uncapped water bottle. “I just… can’t forgive myself for hurting someone I love.” Then he realized how that sounded. “Like a friend, now, I mean, n-not--”

Kagami pressed her knuckles to her forehead. “I know what you meant, Adrien Agreste.”

She’d said his full name again. That shut him up. He waited for her to lower her hand and fix him with her hard gaze. But he was surprised when her eyes on him were soft. 

Kagami cupped his cheek again. Adrien wondered why Kagami was so affectionate with him today. _Maybe she knows I want to be touched?_ Her touches were different from Marinette’s, but Adrien was still comfortable with Kagami. They weren’t the clingy, overwhelming touches of Chloé, and Kagami was so direct, he knew she’d never lie to him.

“Have you talked with your therapist about this?”

Adrien closed his eyes. He didn’t detect pity in Kagami’s, but the compassion was bad enough. “Yes,” he said, pursing his lips. “She gave me homework to do: write down the reasons I couldn’t forgive myself.”

“And did you do it?”

“No…”

He heard Kagami scoff, and opened his eyes. Once he was facing her, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You should.”

Adrien smiled up at her, tears gathering in his eyes again. “I’ll try.”

***

After the playdate with Kagami, where she’d beaten him in ten straight games of Go Fish in a row, Adrien returned home and immediately took a shower. He had reeked after the fencing match, and he’d spent all afternoon soaking in that stench. He dressed in his sweatpants and wristbands.

He shaved, which Plagg teased him about--hilariously, given how badly Plagg had freaked out the first time Adrien had cut himself shaving. Adrien hadn’t cut himself for weeks.

Then, after playing a few rounds of Extreme Racing 3 with Plagg, Adrien settled down at his desk to do the homework Dr. Pemberley had assigned him a couple of months ago: writing down why he couldn’t forgive himself for hurting Kagami when they were dating. 

He opened to a fresh page in the notebook Marinette had given him for his birthday, finding a new affirmation: _“Your words are always kind and loving.”_ Touched by his girlfriend’s words, Adrien sighed happily. 

Pen poised above the paper, though, he hesitated. He couldn’t write down the words to figure out why he couldn’t forgive himself. He couldn’t be a friend to himself. He was terrible and cruel and didn’t deserve forgiveness.

Plagg floated over, cheese in hand. “Whatcha doing?”

Adrien unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Plagg,” the boy croaked, his voice strained. “I’m… I’m trying to write down why I don’t deserve forgiveness for hurting Kagami.”

“Why you _think_ you don’t deserve forgiveness, you mean,” Plagg said, snarfing down his cheese.

Adrien tapped his pen on the page, as if by doing so the ink would flow out and form into words for him. “Yeah. That.” He frowned. “How do I start?”

“What did your therapist say about forgiveness?” Plagg said, tilting his head. “What are the steps?”

Adrien set his pen down and tallied off Dr. Pemberley’s steps. “Acknowledge the hurt,” he counted off. “Release the offender from their debt. And wish them well.”

“Good job, Kid, I knew you were smart,” Plagg said, with a toothy grin. Adrien couldn’t help but smile back, but the elation faded when the kwami continued. “So write down what you did to her.”

“I hurt Kagami,” Adrien said, a statement of fact. “And that matters.”

“Yup.”

“Thanks, Plagg.” Adrien turned back to his pad of papers. He dogeared the top corner of the page he planned to write on, just in case he needed to find it again, and picked up his pen.

 _I was really unfair to Kagami, my girlfriend at the time._ Adrien wrote, his heart sinking. _I kept Chat Noir a secret from her._

Plagg alighted on the page. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he interrupted, pointing at the words with a tiny flipper. “That’s not how you were unfair to Kagami.”

“What?” Adrien blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Keeping your identity secret wasn’t the problem,” Plagg said in his whiny voice. “She knew about that. You two had Salad together, remember? She accepted that you had Salad.”

“Then--”

“Do you know what emotional cheating is, Kid?” Plagg said, frowning at him.

“I… I cheated on her,” Adrien muttered, his stomach bottoming out.

“You flirted with Marinette while you were suited up,” Plagg said, shaking his head. “And you kissed her.”

“What?” Adrien repeated, his jaw dropping. “No, I didn’t! I kissed Ladybug, as Adrien. Chat never kissed Marinette.”

Plagg blinked slowly at him.

“Plagg--”

“Look!” Once Plagg settled, he blinked slowly at his charge again. And again.

Adrien swallowed. “K-Kitten kissing? I did that?”

Plagg nodded. “You did.”

Adrien thought back to the time when he’d apparently kitten-kissed Marinette. Chat had tickled her mercilessly and pinned her to her chaise longue, straddling her body. She’d responded by giggling and scratching behind his feline ears, until he’d nipped her ear. Then he’d smiled smugly at her and blinked.

Slowly.

At his kitten kiss, Marinette had squirmed under him, which only made him want to hang onto her even tighter. “I’m stuck!” she’d said. “You’re heavy!”

And he had _purred_ at her. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“Chat,” Marinette had gasped. “Get off.”

Adrien buried his head in his hands. He peeked through his fingers at his kwami. “I’m scum, Plagg.”

“Ehh.” Plagg flew off, presumably to get more cheese. He returned, wedge in hand, and snarfed that down, too. “I’ve had worse holders than you. You just got caught up in the moment.” Plagg chuckled. “For many, many moments.”

Adrien groaned.

“Listen, if you’re going to beat yourself up, you may as well write it down, and then work on forgiving yourself, yeah?” Plagg said, gesturing to the page with a tiny flipper. “After all, she’s already forgiven you, and I know you’re not smarter than her.”

“You’re right, Plagg,” Adrien said, picking up his pen again. He wrote, the words flowing out of the pen much like the memories of his mother had all those months ago. 

_I didn’t give our relationship my all,_ Adrien wrote, and Plagg nodded. _I wasn’t emotionally faithful to her._

“Or arguably, emotionally ready,” Plagg added.

Adrien paused his pen. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you weren’t ready for a relationship with anyone at that point, but especially with her,” Plagg said, folding his flippers. “You just kind of… let the relationship happen. Is it any wonder you cheated?”

Adrien nodded glumly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“And you didn’t let Kagami know you weren’t ready, either,” Plagg pointed out. “You could have worked on that, together, but you weren’t mature enough at the time to figure out that you needed to tell her that kind of thing.”

Adrien sniffled. Plagg floated over and patted his cheek. “Hey,” the kwami whispered. “We all mess up sometimes, you know? It doesn’t make you a terrible person if you’ve done a terrible thing. You’re not irredeemable.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said, wiping his nose on the back of his wrist. “First, acknowledge the harm.”

“Right,” Plagg agreed, inclining his head. “Write this all down, and then burn the list, like your therapist said.”

“I can’t light a fire in my room. I’d burn the house down.”

“You can go outside.”

Adrien pondered that. He could go outside. He just had to find some matches--which should be in the kitchen, he thought. “Okay. I can go outside.”

The boy wrote down what Plagg had said, without embellishment: He’d emotionally cheated on Kagami. Chat had kitten-kissed Marinette. Adrien wasn’t ready for a relationship with Kagami, and he didn’t tell her that he wasn’t ready. Finally, he added that he’d kissed Ladybug, as Adrien.

Plagg looked over the list and pronounced it good. “Now, release the offender from their debt.”

“How do I do that?”

“First, you recognize that Kagami has already forgiven you,” Plagg said, waving a black flipper. “Which I’ll remind you about. Again.” 

“I need the reminder,” Adrien said, pursing his lips. “It hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Regardless, while you did hurt her, she’s not hurting now,” Plagg said, whiskers twitching. “I assume.”

“You assume?”

Plagg looked shifty. “It’s not like you’ve asked her, right?”

Adrien blanched. He bit his lip, a bad habit he’d picked up from Marinette. “No, I guess I haven’t.”

“You might want to do that,” Plagg huffed, pressing a flipper to his forehead.

“I will,” Adrien said, his eyes tightening. He wiped at a stray tear. “Okay. Release the offender from the debt. Kagami definitely doesn’t want revenge on me. Although I’ve done an injustice to her, she’s not seeking to rectify it.”

“Nope,” Plagg said, popping the p.

“So there’s no reason to keep on chastising myself,” Adrien said, coming to a conclusion that surprised him. “Just because I did a terrible thing… doesn’t make me a terrible person.”

“That’s right,” Plagg affirmed, nodding. “You’re not excused from doing better in the future, but you can forgive yourself for your past. Don’t dwell on it. Kagami doesn’t.”

“Okay,” Adrien said, steepling his fingers. “Wish myself well.”

“That’ll be tough,” Plagg snarked, and Adrien laughed. “I’m serious. You’ve never wished yourself well, because you don’t think you deserve it.”

“I wish myself well,” Adrien said, drawing a breath through his nose.

“No,” Plagg implored, floating up to Adrien’s face. The little kwami placed both of his flippers on Adrien’s chin, as if he could hold it in his tiny nubs. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I wish myself well.”

“Try again.”

Adrien huffed. “I wish myself well.”

“Ugghh,” Plagg whinged, pulling away from Adrien’s face and doing a flip in the air. “This isn’t working. Try different words?”

Adrien fidgeted in his chair. He didn’t want Plagg to be disappointed in him. “Can _you_ wish me well?”

“You’re the one forgiving yourself,” Plagg said, shaking his head. “This blessing has to come from you.”

“Blessing, huh...” Adrien furrowed his brow. Then he tried again. “I hope that I’ll be blessed in my relationships, be they platonic, romantic, or familial. I am loving and lovable, and I can do better than what I have done in the past.”

“I’ll take it,” Plagg said in relief, tail curling. 

“Thanks, Plagg,” Adrien said, cupping his hands for his little kwami to perch on. “You know, for someone who hates romance as much as you do, you’re super wise about relationships.”

“I’m _old_ ,” Plagg stressed, echoing his earlier words with a toothy grin. He floated into Adrien’s hands, and the boy scratched him behind the ears. “You pick up on things when you’re as old as I am.”

Adrien laughed. “I appreciate your being old, then. Thanks for your advice.”

Plagg nuzzled Adrien’s palm, purring a little. “Anytime, Kid. Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Chat enjoys a board game with the Dupain-Chengs.

Chat placed his Destiny Tile on the edge of the Dupain-Cheng family’s table, then slapped the tile up into the air. Faster than the eye could follow, he snatched the game piece out of the air, catching it before it hit the floor. 

This was his Speed skill check in his favorite board game, Le Donjon de Naheulbeuk, which he played on Mondays with the Dupain-Chengs. He’d passed.

Tom, Sabine, and Marinette exploded into speech in unison.

“Good job, son!” Tom exclaimed, just as Sabine applauded and said, “Excellent,” and Marinette added, “Nicely done, Chat.”

Chat goggled at all three of them. Once he thought he’d picked out the words from everyone, he beamed at them. “Superhero reflexes,” he said modestly, ducking his head. “What you’re seeing is the suit, not me.”

“It’s not all the suit,” Marinette said, but she didn’t continue that train of thought when Chat looked at her. He glanced at her pinky, where she wore the ring, and her chest, where she wore the Eiffel Tower pendant.

A smile curved Sabine’s pale lips. “You pass Speed Checks the fastest.” 

Tom laughed. “And I can’t pass them at all. Well played.”

The family--plus Chat--moved on to face their next foe in the eighth dungeon, a randomly-selected group of rabid werewolves. Each family member--playing as the classic dungeon-crawling characters of a barbarian, a ranger, a sorceress, and a bard--arranged letter cards in their hands to make power words such as ‘sbam’ and ‘wazaa.’

The battle was pitched and frenetic, the atmosphere chaotic as everyone shouted for their missing letters in the hopes of making a trade, to gather enough correct cards to land an attack on the werewolves.

After the humanoid beasts were put down, Tom triggered a trap in the dungeon and needed to pass a Dexterity Check. He quickly assembled a house of cards using the Destiny Tiles, cheered on by his daughter and adopted superhero son.

“Go, go, go!” Chat and Marinette chanted together, shaking their fists in unison. Sabine sat back and smiled, folding her arms. 

Tom succeeded, and the table erupted in happy shouting. 

Next, it was Marinette’s turn to proceed through the dungeon. She drew an unlucky card, which forced her to perform a Precision Check. Groaning, she stood from her chair. 

“You can do it, Marinette!” Chat cheered, patting her on the shoulder as she passed his chair. 

“Thanks, Chat,” she said, pursing her lips. He wanted to kiss them. “But Precision Checks are my least favorite!”

Marinette picked up the game box and stood three steps away from the table, near the pink couch in the living room. Tom, Sabine, and Chat readied their throws. 

“Go!” Marinette said, and the three of them began chucking their Destiny Tiles into the air. 

Marinette jerked the box around, catching an impressive amount of them, but not enough to pass the skill check. Only half of Chat’s tiles went in.

Marinette huffed, and Chat laughed. He tried to console her as best he could. “Sorry, little mouse,” he said, “but that’s more on us than it is on you. We need to throw better.”

Tom and Sabine both chuckled.

“It’s a cooperative game,” Marinette said, shrugging as she returned to her seat. “And regardless of whether we win or lose, it’s still fun.” She grinned at them all. “Let’s defeat Zangdar.”

Progressing through the game, the family performed more Checks, including Stamina, Coordination, and Intelligence Checks. After they reached the fourteenth dungeon, they squared off against the powerful sorcerer. 

Marinette landed the final, decisive blow, spelling ‘paaaaaf’ with her cards, and doing damage with every extra letter A. The party read the last dungeon story card, and they recovered Gladeulfeurha’s statuettes.

Tom and Sabine praised the children, Chat and Marinette congratulated their parents, and each family member shook the other members’ hands.

Chat stretched. His shoulders had been less tense ever since Hawkmoth had stopped throwing akumas at them at all hours of the day three weeks ago. Chat had even caught up on his sleep to a certain extent. 

Adrien could be getting more sleep, but he still had a bad habit of staying up late and working on his knitting. He was almost done with the pink, sparkly scarf he planned to give Marinette.

He didn’t like to sleep nowadays. He’d have nightmares of Cataclysming the people he loved: Nino, Alya, Luka, Kagami, Marinette… But he still tried to sleep.

So Chat was perfectly fine with Hawkmoth not throwing akumas. The cat-themed superhero had dreamed of the day the butterfly-themed supervillain would be defeated, and this was the next best thing.

Marinette, on the other hand… She looked run-ragged, with pale cheeks and heavy shadows under her eyes. Chat had asked if she was getting enough sleep and whether she was worried about Hawkmoth’s inevitable return, and she’d said no and yes, respectively. 

_At least she’s not stonewalling me,_ Chat thought, wondering how to feel about that. On the one hand, he was definitely happy that Marinette was talking to him about her fears. On the other, he was sad she was so worried. He wanted her to enjoy the freedom from akumas while they had it, not be anxious about whatever Grandpa Hawky was planning.

But try as he might, he couldn’t reassure her. So that soured his good feelings about the whole prospect. _We just need to defeat the man. As soon as he comes back._

Sabine interrupted his thoughts with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “How are you sleeping, Chat? You don’t look as tired as normal.”

“Thank you, Sabine,” he said, feline ears perking up. He started picking Destiny Tiles up to put back in their bag. “I’m sleeping okay, actually. Hawkmoth has been… missing for three weeks, so I figured I might as well get some sleep in.”

“You aren’t worried, son?” Tom said, placing Le Donjon’s rules sheet into the box.

Marinette’s eyes snapped to Chat’s. He shivered under her scrutiny. “I am,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, a habit he’d picked up as Adrien. “But I’m trying to look on the bright side? I want to enjoy this time of peace while it lasts. I’m getting hints of what life will be like when he’s defeated, and I like it.”

“But the city is tense,” Marinette said, frowning. “Can’t you feel it, Chat? Paris is holding its collective breath, just waiting for him to prey on them again.”

He focused all of his attention on her. Her parents faded to the background. What Chat had to say was for Marinette, and Marinette alone. “I know,” he murmured. “And I feel badly for the Parisians. But the only way we--Ladybug and I--can fix that problem is if Hawkmoth comes back, and we defeat him.” Chat clenched his fists on his bent knees, wishing he had his sweatpants to grab onto. His suit was too smooth, too rigid to bunch up like his civilian attire could.

Marinette allowed him to continue. “And make no mistake,” he said fiercely, “we _will_ defeat him.”

Marinette nodded slowly. He wished she would smile at him. He wished they could be on the same page regarding taking the time to enjoy the relative peace Hawkmoth’s absence granted them. But she was too much of a consummate professional to ever relax when things were going well.

That worried him. _Will she be like this after the defeat? Always worried, always tense?_ Chat thought, feeling his shoulders stiffen. _How can I help her? Will she even let me?_

But it was Tom who answered Chat, not Marinette. Her parents came back into the boy’s awareness abruptly, as soon as the man spoke. “That’s good to hear, son. I wish you all the luck in the world during the final battle.”

“Don’t get hurt,” Sabine added.

Marinette grimaced. “You’d better not.”

“I’ll do my very best,” Chat said, knowing that he couldn’t promise anything to them. He didn’t have any guarantees that he wouldn’t be hurt; in fact, he was pretty sure he would be. He would probably be harmed, possibly crippled, in the final battle. Or by an akuma attack beforehand. 

He may even die again.

He wasn’t ready to die. He still had living to do.

Chat realized with a start that he _wanted_ to live his life. The desire was overwhelming. He wanted to kiss Marinette and eat Tom and Sabine’s meals and pass skill checks with the whole family. Adrien wanted to play video games with Nino, clean cat boxes with Alya, and play the keyboard with Kitty Section. Adrien wanted to earn his father’s love. 

Tears stung Chat’s eyes at the thought of leaving Marinette behind. Of never getting married to her, of her being alone, of her grieving his passing. Grief built up in his chest like a rock behind his breastbone.

What if he and Ladybug failed? What if he fell in battle and left her all alone to face Hawkmoth herself? What if _she_ died, too, and couldn’t bring him back with the Miraculous Cure? 

He didn’t want to die. _He didn’t want to die._

He was terrified.

Trembling, Chat buried his head in his hands and sobbed. Tears soaked his wristbands. Marinette immediately threw her arms around him. He didn’t see her parents stand, but he heard the scraping of chairs on the tile floor. Sort of surprised by them also hugging him because he felt more than saw them move, Chat took a moment before leaning into his family’s collective embrace. Their warmth soothed him.

He couldn’t stop crying. His fear choked him, forcing him to take great, convulsive gasps. 

But Chat shouldn't be crying. He shouldn't. He was embarrassing himself and burdening the Dupain-Cheng family with his feelings. Snot built up in his nose, and while he tried in vain to compose himself, his breath kept hitching. 

"Ssh," Marinette shushed, petting his hair. "It's okay, Chat. Everything will be okay."

"What's wrong, honey?" Sabine said.

She’d asked. An adult had asked him a question, so he was compelled to answer. "I-I don't want to die!"

Silence answered him, broken only by his pitiful howling. They couldn't promise him that he wouldn't fall in the final battle. Surely, his death would be from his own incompetence. He'd slip up, make one single, solitary mistake, and cause the team to fail. He'd screw Ladybug over and all would be lost. Tears leaked between his fingertips and spattered on his thighs.

"Oh, honey," Sabine whispered eventually.

"It's okay to be scared, son," Tom said, rubbing Chat's back. "Death is a scary thing."

"You won't die," Marinette declared, startling him with the fierceness of her tone.

Chat raised his head to look at her. Her lips were twisted, and her eyes burned. "I-I won't?"

Marinette shook her head, her jaw tightly set. "Not if Ladybug has anything to say about it. All you have to do is protect her."

Chat swallowed. Marinette was Ladybug. Ladybug was Marinette. She couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t be hurt, but she could do her best to protect him. And he would protect her in turn. 

Once he was given a job, his blubbering stopped, but his eyes still felt raw and scratchy. He gave a long, drawn out sniff and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Thank you,” he said to Marinette, and he paused before his next words, so she would understand that he was thanking her for more than just this. “For saying so.”

She nodded, the message seemingly understood. 

Tom and Sabine gave him an extra squeeze. “Marinette is right!” Tom said, smiling at Chat. “Ladybug will save us all.”

“Yes, we can always depend on Ladybug,” Sabine said, offering him a tissue and a trash can to throw it in. Chat took the tissue and blew his nose, offering her a watery smile. “And we can depend on you, too, Chat.” 

Chat cleared his throat. “I hope so.”

“We can,” Marinette said, her arms tensing around his neck. Unlike Tom and Sabine, she was still clinging to him. Chat wondered if Marinette needed him as much as he needed her.

He turned in his seat, in her hold, and snaked his hands around her. “Okay. Thanks.”

They held each other for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Dr. Pemberley lets Adrien know she is aware of his identity as Chat Noir.

“I did my homework,” Adrien stated, settling into the couch cushions at Dr. Pemberley’s office. He glanced at the balcony resting just outside the glass sliding door. His sweatpants felt warm and comforting on his legs. “About forgiving myself for hurting Kagami.”

“I’m proud of you, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said, clicking her pen open. Adrien puffed up under the praise. She was proud of him. The doctor made a note on her bright, yellow legal pad. “And have you forgiven yourself?

Adrien nodded. “I have. Thank you for encouraging me to do so.”

“Of course.” Dr. Pemberley smiled. “That’s my job. But we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about you. What do you want to cover in this session?”

Adrien shifted on his seat. “Oh, uh, I’m not sure,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his head. “But… I guess things with Salad are getting… bad.”

“Bad how?” Dr. Pemberley said, tilting her head.

“Just like…” Adrien spread his hands in front of himself, at a loss for words. “Bad. Everyone’s really worried about Salad. Especially Marinette. And there’s nothing I can do to help all these people.”

“Do you feel obligated to help people, Adrien?” Dr. Pemberley said, tapping her pen on her pad of papers.

“I definitely do,” Adrien affirmed, nodding rapidly. “Salad helps me do that.”

“That would make sense,” Dr. Pemberley agreed, making a note. “After all, Salad is important to so many Parisians.”

Adrien stared at her. “Dr. Pemberley,” he hesitated, licking his lips. “Do you know what Salad is?”

“That all depends,” Dr. Pemberley said, inclining her head, “on whether you want to keep your identity secret, Chat Noir.”

Adrien’s stomach bottomed out. “H-How?”

Dr. Pemberley didn’t shrug. She uncrossed her legs at the knee instead. “Many, many clues. Please know that I won’t do anything to jeopardize your identity. Do you know Ladybug’s?”

“No!” Adrien windmilled his hands. “She’s really strict about identities! I wouldn’t want to know her as a civilian!” I wouldn’t want to know her in her civilian form.”

“Even though you love her?”

Adrien flinched. “Who said I love Ladybug?”

“I do read the Ladyblog, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said, raising a brow. “Now, do you want to talk about your experience as Chat Noir?”

An adult had asked him a question. Adrien had to answer. “Um…”

“You don’t have to, of course,” Dr. Pemberley said gently, shaking her head. “If you want to talk about your civilian life, that is perfectly fine.”

Adrien hesitated. He stared at his hands, and he swore he could see his claws. He trusted Dr. Pemberley. She was an adult in his life who actually cared about him--or was paid to care, at least. And she’d already found out and didn’t seem to be judging him. 

For how long had he wanted to talk to an adult about his life as Chat Noir? To an adult who might be able to give him some perspective? 

Too long. Way too long.

“Okay,” he resolved, “but I don’t know what I could say.”

“Tell me about the hardest akuma you’ve ever faced?” Dr. Pemberley asked as she spread her hand over her legal pad.

Adrien swallowed. That was a hard question. Not because he didn’t know which akuma that was: he did. He just didn’t want to talk about it. But an adult--a trusted adult, his mind reminded him--had just asked him a question. He had to answer.

“Desperada,” he whispered, staring at his feet.

“What made facing her so difficult?” Dr. Pemberley said, making another note.

Adrien glanced at his therapist wearily. “I… I faced her as Aspik.”

Dr. Pemberley blinked at him. “Aspik?”

Adrien clenched his fists around his sweatpants, bunching up the fabric on his knees. “Ladybug offered me--Adrien, me--the snake miraculous. It… It has an ability called Second Chance, which enables you to go back in time to the moment you set it as often as you want within the five-minute timer.”

“Sounds very useful,” Dr. Pemberley commented, making yet another note.

“It is,” Adrien said hollowly. “But… I couldn’t save Ladybug as Aspik. I set the Second Chance, and I kept resetting and resetting. I failed, every time.”

“How many times did you go back?”

“Twenty-five thousand nine hundred thirteen times.”

Dr. Pemberley stared at him. “That must have taken months.”

Adrien held up two fingers. “At least two, yeah.”

Dr. Pemberley shook herself. It was the first time Adrien had ever seen her nonplussed. “I’m sorry, Adrien,” she stammered. “That must have been so difficult.”

Adrien lifted one foot onto the couch, wrapping his arms around his knee. His other leg jiggled in place. “Yeah. It was hard. Really hard,” he said, his next words coming out in a rush. “She… She got hit. Again and again. So often. She kept getting captured over and over, and I couldn’t protect her at all. I can’t bear to see her hurt, Dr. Pemberly. I hate it. And she _died_ , and I-I just… I can’t. I can’t handle it.”

He buried his face in his knee, his breath hitching. He had already shed so many tears over this; he didn’t want to cry anymore.

“But you did save her,” Dr. Pemberley said gently. “As Chat Noir.”

Adrien swallowed snot. He raised his head to look at her. “Chat saved her, yeah. Chat always saves her. Unless he screws up and she has to save him. Again. And again. Do you know how many times Chat has _died_? For her. Always for her.”

Dr. Pemberley drew a slow breath through her nose. “I’m concerned, Adrien,” she stated, and he started, “about you dissociating your identity.”

“Dissociating?”

“Separating one identity from the other when both of them are parts of you,” Dr. Pemberley explained, furrowing her brow.

“But Dr. Pemberley,” Adrien pouted, leaning his head on his knee, “I’m more free to express myself as Chat. He’s my true self.”

“I don’t buy that,” Dr. Pemberley said, and Adrien sat up straighter. His other leg was still jiggling as she continued. “Chat is a performative side of you, that’s true. When you’re Chat, you crack puns, I’m assuming as a defensive tactic. But the civilian side of you, the Adrien side, is just as much of an act.”

Adrien blinked at her. “An act?”

“Yes,” Dr. Pemberley said, clicking her pen. “You stuff your emotions, never letting anyone see the real you. So if you’re acting outlandishly as Chat and you’re acting subdued as Adrien, the real you must be somewhere in the middle. Neither side of you is a lie, but both are acts.”

Adrien didn’t know what to say to that. The words rang true to him, but they were uncomfortable truths. “Then how do I get to that real side of me?”

“I would love to meet an Adrien who is natural and relaxed.” Dr. Pemberley smiled, tapping her pen on her pad again. “Who feels free to express himself in whatever manner he sees fit, appropriate for the situation.”

Adrien sighed. His knee stopped shaking. “I don’t know how to act natural.”

“Fitting that you would use the word act,” Dr. Pemberley said, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Responding naturally isn’t an act. But you have to allow yourself to feel your emotions and trust yourself.” 

“How do I stop acting fake?”

She crossed her legs at the knee. “The Adrien that is nervous around his father is still Adrien. That isn’t fake,” she said quickly. “And neither is the Chat who loves Ladybug.” 

“Oh...” Adrien pursed his lips. “So they’re both real?”

Dr. Pemberley schooled her expression into one of neutrality. “You have a complex personality with multiple facets that you show in different situations,” she said. “Everyone does, to a certain extent. For example, I act differently at home than when I’m at work, but I’m still Dr. Pemberley.”

“So the Adrien at home and the Chat Noir on patrol are all the same person, just different parts,” Adrien said, lowering his foot to the floor. “I think I get it.”

“Do you separate out Ladybug’s identity? Thinking of her as distinct from her civilian self?”

“If I knew her civilian self,” Adrien said carefully, “I probably would.”

“You don’t have to know her to dissociate her identity,” Dr. Pemberley said, shrugging. “All you have to do is think of her as Ladybug, and only Ladybug, not taking into account that she has a civilian side just like you.”

Is that what he’d done? Adrien wondered when he’d started to see Ladybug as Marinette. He realized with a start that he didn’t see Ladybug as Marinette at all, but a separate entity. He hung his head. “I guess I do.”

“Why do you think you do this, Adrien?” Dr. Pemberley asked, making another note.

“I don’t know,” Adrien mumbled, frowning at the floor. He looked up at the doctor. “Maybe because it’s just hard to think of Ladybug as anything but a consummate professional and Ma-the other part of her as... She’s… Honestly, all Ladybug is, is her civilian form in focus mode.”

If Dr. Pemberley had realized that he knew Ladybug’s civilian identity, it didn’t show up on the therapist’s face. “I see,” Dr. Pemberley said. “Would you like to get to know her as something other than her in focus mode?”

“Very much,” Adrien said passionately. “I want nothing more than to get to know her.” He smiled shyly. “And to have her know me. The _real_ me.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” Dr. Pemberley said warmly. “You’ll have to relax around her. You don’t have to ham it up as Chat Noir. You have a partnership.” Dr. Pemberley smiled back at him. “I’m sure she’ll love getting to know you. And you will, too.”

“How do I show her the real me?”

“Acting like a different person than yourself is a sign of low self-confidence and insecurity,” Dr. Pemberley said, opening her pen and scribbling some words down on her legal pad. “When you start to second guess yourself around others, remind yourself that it’s okay to be yourself. Build up your trust in you.”

“Okay to be myself.” Adrien nodded firmly. “Got it.”

“Also, rather than setting huge, ambitious goals, try setting smaller goals that lead up to the big one,” Dr. Pemberley said. “Defeating Hawkmoth is your big goal, but defeating each individual akuma is more achievable at the moment.” She inclined her head again. “Meeting your goals will help you build confidence.”

“I can do that,” Adrien said, though his chest shuddered. “Dr. Pemberley… Do you really think we can beat him?”

Dr. Pemberley hesitated. “I don’t know, Adrien,” she said sadly. “I don’t know what he’s planning. But this lull in his activity has been almost unbearable.”

Adrien started panting, and he didn’t know why. “I-I don’t want to die.”

That wasn’t what he meant to say. The admission made him feel vulnerable and weak. Besides, he’d already cried about this all over the Dupain-Cheng family the night before. Wasn’t he done having emotions about it?

“I know you don’t,” Dr. Pemberley said, her eyes tightening. “You’re so very, very young, Adrien. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

Adrien hiccuped. His eyes felt pressurized and raw. “That doesn’t make me feel better, Dr. Pemberley.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, and she reached out, only to draw back. “But you must recognize that Ladybug will do everything in her power to protect you. You two have a partnership that Hawkmoth can’t touch.”

“I’m her shield,” Adrien declared, touching his chest. “I protect her.” His voice turned rueful. “She says I have a martyr complex.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you do,” Dr. Pemberley said, lips twisting. “Do you throw yourself into danger?”

“I have to,” Adrien stressed, clenching his fist in the air. “She’d get hurt otherwise. And I couldn’t bear that.”

“Tell me what she said about your martyr complex.”

Adrien brought his fists up against his chest and learned forward. “She hates it. She thinks I only consider myself good if I’m dying for her.”

Dr. Pemberley gave him a look. He knew what she was going to say next. “And do you?”

“No!” he said quickly. “At least… I don’t think so.” He huffed. “She said I don’t realize how much she needs me.”

“What do you think about that, Adrien?”

Adrien hunkered down, raising his shoulders around his ears. “I don’t know. I don’t ever know what she’s thinking, Dr. Pemberley. I know she loves me, but… Sometimes I wonder. I’m not lovable, you know?”

“That is a blatant untruth that I need you to challenge, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said, frowning slightly. “Why do you think you’re not loveable?”

“I’m too needy,” Adrien said immediately. “I take and I take and I take, and I never give to anyone. And I burden people with my feelings. Like, Marinette’s parents; they’ve practically adopted me as Chat, but just last night I was bawling all over them about not wanting to die.” 

“Let’s unpack all of that.” Dr. Pemberley uncrossed her legs again. “Having needs is not inherently bad, Adrien. And the people who love you want to show you that they care. If you show them your gratitude, that’s enough. And you can always give more. Giving just takes conscious effort.”

Adrien winced. “And the crying?”

Dr. Pemberley tilted her head. “Did they tell you to stop?”

“No,” Adrien said, shaking his head. “They hugged me.”

“You’re not burdening others by having feelings in their presence, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said gently. “Of all the insidious lies your father has convinced you of, this has to be the most damaging.” 

“I’m…” Adrien swallowed. “I’m not hurting them? Not even by crying on them?”

“Absolutely not,” Dr. Pemberley said, her tone slightly more fierce than her usual neutral voice. “That you were able to let your walls down and be vulnerable in front of them--and they let you--engendered trust between you three. It’s a good thing, Adrien, that you showed your true self.”

Adrien blinked at her. “I didn’t think of it that way.”

“And now we’ve come full circle,” Dr. Pemberley said, smiling a little. Then her lips tugged down at the corners. “Adrien. I’m very concerned about you fighting akumas. You’ve been a soldier in a private war for two years now, with no end in sight. How do you feel about that?”

Adrien lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I mean… It’s not like I have a choice, right? Ladybug needs me.”

“There’s always a choice, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said, curling her fingers around the edge of her notebook. “I’m not going to tell you that you’re making the right or wrong one. I think you know.”

Adrien nodded firmly. “I do. I am a soldier, but I can’t stop being one. I won’t abandon Ladybug.”

“I understand.” Dr. Pemberley nodded in return. “Are there any particular akuma fights that you’ve been holding onto aside from Desperada? Anything that you need to process?”

“I guess… there’s…” Adrien stared down at his hands and felt cinders covering them. He choked, seeing Lila’s poisonous smirk turn to one of pain and then to ash. “I… I killed her.”

Dr. Pemberley stared at him, brows raised. “You killed someone?”

Tears welled in his eyes, and he dashed them away with the heels of his hands. “Lila Rossi.”

Dr. Pemberley stilled. “You killed your abuser? On purpose?”

“No!” Adrien shouted, curling in on himself. He remembered every detail of that afternoon and helplessly recounted the scene. “It was Tuesday, September first. At six fifty-seven pm. The sky was blue. There were only three clouds above us. We were in the twelfth arrondissement. Volpina, Lila’s akumatized form, was crouched at the top of a restaurant, behind an air-conditioning unit. Her ears were just visible around the top.” 

He swallowed thickly. “I felt the solidness of the rooftop under my feet as I ran towards Volpina. She’s orange and white, you know, with fox ears. Because she’s a fox. She has a ‘tail’ of sorts, which is sort of like a tuxedo, you know? Because tuxedos have tails like that.”

Dr. Pemberley inclined her head. “Go on, Adrien.”

"Her akumatized object is--was--a foxtail necklace," he whispered, his anxiety strangling him. He had to tell Dr. Pemberley everything, or there’d be no hope of absolution for him. "Ladybug told me to do my thing. I called for my Cataclysm. The power feels warm and tingly, like my hand is on the precipice of numbness."

Panting, he licked his lips, his fingers clenching and unclenching. “Volpina has-- _had_ , oh, gosh--an orange flute with orange stripes. She threw it at my feet, and I stepped on it with the ball of my right foot, and I tripped. My hand… impacted with her chest. She gave me a pained look, one of horror. Her lip was curled back and baring her teeth, and her eyes…” 

His chest shuddered. “Her eyes were hollow and lonely. They’re the most beautiful shade of green, did you know? Then she turned into an ash copy of herself. An exact replica.”

Dr. Pemberley made a note. She’d made many notes while he was talking, and he itched to see what she was writing. “Then what happened?”

Adrien choked, tears rolling down his cheeks. “She dissolved. I’m sorry, Dr. Pemberley, but I don’t remember anything after that. I’m so sorry I can’t remember. I’m very sorry. I wish I could. I’m sorry. I somewhat remember talking to Ladybug about it, and then I went to apologize to Lila the next day.”

He sniffled. “I’m sorry, Dr. Pemberley, for speaking so long.”

“That’s perfectly all right, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said, offering him a box of tissues from off the small table beside her chair. Adrien took one and blew his nose, crumpling the wet tissue in his hand. 

He coughed, smelling Lila’s charred remains. Panting, he dropped the tissue into his lap and covered his face with his hands. “She died so _fast._ ”

Dr. Pemberley steepled her fingers in front of her lips, pen trapped between her palms. “I assume that Ladybug’s Cure brought her back?”

“Yeah,” Adrien muttered, lowering his hands. He tried to cling to that, tried to recognize that everything was set to rights in the end.

But everything wasn’t set to rights. Lila _remembered_ that he’d killed her. She knew. And she was traumatized and would never forgive him. 

He didn’t need her forgiveness. Adrien didn’t need her to recognize that what had happened was an accident. 

He thought so, anyway.

“Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley called gently, drawing his attention to her. Her hands now rested in her lap. “I want you to know that this unfortunate incident doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“I… I didn’t…” 

“You didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Dr. Pemberley said, her tone firm and implacable. Adrien could no more question that than he could stop breathing and live. “You would never intentionally hurt someone, Adrien. You’re not that kind of person.”

Adrien sniffed. “Ma--Ladybug told me that when I was mind controlled by Dark Cupid, I told her that I’d always been curious about what it would be like to Cataclysm a person. That didn’t come from nowhere, Dr. Pemberley.”

“I don’t think mind control simply amplifies the worst parts of you as you fear,” Dr. Pemberley said, shaking her head minutely. “You weren’t in control of your actions then. Hawkmoth’s minion was.”

Adrien’s shoulders, which had been hitched up around his ears, sagged. He leaned back against the couch, drawing a deep breath through his nose in an effort to calm himself. “I guess.”

“You’re not morbid, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said, tapping her pen against her legal pad. “What happened with Lila wasn't you indulging your curiosity. It was a tragic mishap--and not your fault in the slightest.”

“You asked me if I’d killed her on purpose,” Adrien pointed out morosely.

Dr. Pemberley looked nonplussed. “I apologize. I should have known better, Adrien,” she said, drawing a breath through her nose. “I understand why that would upset you, and you don’t have to forgive me.”

“I forgive you,” Adrien said quickly, not wanting to hurt her anymore than he had to.

Dr. Pemberley made a note. “Thank you. But we’ll have to reexamine your penchant for forgiving people without acknowledging the hurt they’ve done to you later. Right now, I’d like to help you process the fallout from accidentally injuring Mademoiselle Rossi.”

Adrien flinched. His next words came out in a strained whisper. “Do I have to?”

Dr. Pemberley shook her head. “You do not. But I’m afraid that if you don’t, this issue will come back to haunt you.”

Adrien hung his head. “Are you going to ask me how this makes me feel? Isn’t that what therapists do?”

Dr. Pemberley cleared her throat, and he looked up. “Do you want to explore your feelings on this, Adrien?”

Adrien chewed on the inside of his cheek. “It’ll haunt me if I don’t, right?”

“All right,” Dr. Pemberley said, inclining her head. “Did any part of you relish that you killed her as revenge for what she did to you?”

Adrien inhaled sharply and clutched his sweatpants at the knees. “I… I just don’t know anymore. I hadn’t actively fantasized about hurting her? But I’d wondered if I could. I thought… Maybe if I hurt her, she’d stop.” His chest shuddered with his breaths and the pocket holding Plagg vibrated. “I definitely didn’t like her putting her hands all over me.”

Hot tears spilled over his cheeks again and dripped off his chin. “When she put her tongue in my mouth, I shoved her to the ground. I _did_ hurt her then, or I think I did.” He rubbed his nose with his knuckles. “She cried. A lot. But I didn’t even stop to check on her--I just… ran away. And took a shower.”

“You didn’t intend to hurt her, Adrien.” Dr. Pemberley was repeating her basic points over and over, as if she could convince him they were true by sheer repetition. Adrien almost believed her. “I know you. You’re not that kind of person.”

“But what if--” Adrien started, but Dr. Pemberley’s watch beeped.

“What if you are?” Dr. Pemberley asked, and Adrien nodded. “Even if you had had a fantasy about hurting her, what you did wasn’t premeditated. It was clearly an accident.” She frowned a little. “I’d like to explore your feelings more on this subject, but we’ll have to do that next time. I’m sorry, Adrien.”

“It’s not your fault, Dr. Pemberley,” Adrien said as he stood.

“No,” Dr. Pemberley affirmed. “And what happened to Mademoiselle Rossi wasn't your fault either. Can you believe that for me?”

Adrien inhaled a great gulp of air. “I’ll try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, [Rikka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikkapikasnikka/pseuds/Rikkapikasnikka)! She's looked over Fight for me, starting in chapter 24, and will now be looking over Heart. I owe her the moon. 
> 
> Rikka is an _awesome_ writer in her own right, and I highly, highly recommend that you check out her work [Everything Simplifies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183656/chapters/55493905) if you like Lovesquare, and her work [Bound to Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916585) if you like Lukanette! 
> 
> Three cheers for Rikka!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien sticks his neck out for the sake of his class and is questioned about his father's behaviors by Alya, Nino, and Marinette at lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta reader has changed! Please double check the notes for her links. <3

“Anyone? Anyone at all?” Monsieur Legrand questioned, glaring at Adrien’s lycée class.

Adrien hesitated. He knew the answer to Monsieur Legrand’s question--or, rather, he thought he did. But he didn’t want to stick his neck out, just in case he was wrong. The teacher had a bad habit of ambushing his students with vague queries and expectations that were too high.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Monsieur Legrand continued, slapping his hand down on a girl’s desk at the front of the classroom, causing her to flinch away. “You know this thing was written in 1792. But now I’m telling you that it was written in Strasbourg. So what is it?”

 _Ah,_ Adrien thought, setting his pencil down on top of the journal of affirmations Marinette had given him for his birthday. _Then I do know the answer._

He girded himself with courage and spoke up. “La Marseillaise.”

“Good!” Monsieur Legrand exclaimed, whirling to face Adrien. The teacher climbed to a step above Adrien, looming over him despite being shorter than the seated boy. “You’re my favorite.”

Adrien’s heart sank into his belly. He’d wanted to be the favorite of teachers all his life, but not this particular man. Adrien could already feel the narrowed eyes of the other students landing on him, scrutinizing him, sizing him up. 

_Crap._

But Monsieur Legrand wasn’t done. “And so, M. Agreste, since you’re clearly the only one in this classroom with a brain between your ears, what is the French national anthem about?”

 _France?_ Adrien didn’t give voice to the thought. He drew a breath through his nose and tried to recall what Nathalie had instilled in him about the song. “La Marseillaise was originally commissioned to rally the soldiers of the French army during the Revolution as the country was being invaded by Coalition forces from Prussia and Austria.” 

“Very good!” Monsieur Legrand reiterated, his heavy hand slamming down on Adrien’s shoulder thrice. Adrien winced. “And what was the original title, before the song became the rallying cry of the French Revolution?”

Adrien didn’t want to answer. He knew that answering correctly would garner twisted praise from Monsieur Legrand, and torpedo his chances of making friends with the other students in the class.

But an adult had asked him a direct question. Adrien had to respond. He heard Nathalie’s voice in his head as he spoke. “‘War Song for the Army of the Rhine.’”

“Excellent,” the teacher said, and turned on the rest of the class. "As for the rest of you halfwits, if smarts were dynamite, you wouldn't have enough to blow your noses."

He turned back to Adrien, and patted his shoulder. "You all should try to be like Agreste here. Then I would at least have fun trying to educate you idiotic sloths."

Adrien hunched his shoulders around his ears. He could feel the venom of the rest of his classmates spreading through his veins.

He didn't want anything to do with Monsieur Legrand.

***

“I think my class hates me,” Adrien lamented, sighing as he popped another one of Marinette’s chips into his mouth. His belly was full, having eaten three sandwiches in the cafeteria already. As usual, he’d finished long, long before the rest of his friends. Nino had ribbed him, saying he was going to choke if he didn’t slow down, and Adrien had laughed it off.

He’d quickly recalculated how much he had in his New Stash. He’d have to make a run for protein drinks soon.

“What do you mean?” Alya pondered, sipping her chocolate milk. Adrien envied her for getting the drink; despite him eating three times as much as he should, he still tried to avoid sugar, with the pretense of following his restrictive diet. “You haven’t made any new friends?”

“What do you need new friends for, Dude?” Nino teased Adrien with a lighthearted nudge. “You’ve got us.”

Marinette laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with new friends.”

Adrien smiled at the three of them. As he thought of his offensive homeroom teacher, the boy’s smile quickly faded. “Monsieur Legrand seems intent on turning everyone against each other. He’s singled me out as his favorite, because I’m the only one brave enough to answer his vague questions.”

Nino whistled. “That’s rough, buddy.”

Alya frowned, setting her milk carton down a little roughly. “That’s completely unfair. He has no right!”

Marinette shook her head. “Why do you think he does that, Adrien? If you can pinpoint his motivations, then maybe you can find a way to ask him to stop.”

Adrien pondered that, stroking his stubbly chin. “I don’t know why he feels the need to antagonize us, little mouse,” Adrien ruminated. “Maybe he enjoys the feeling of power and control he has over the classroom?”

“Sounds like your dad, Dude,” Nino snorted, and Adrien started. 

“What do you mean?” Adrien said, blinking at his friend.

Nino exchanged uneasy looks with Alya and Marinette. He steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “Your dad is… harsh. He keeps you at his beck and call. How many times has he scheduled dinner with you only to cancel?”

Adrien sucked a breath over his teeth. “I mean… He’s very busy.”

“Why are you making excuses for him, Adrien?” Alya fixed him with a look. 

Marinette took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “That’s a bad habit of yours.”

“So? How many times?” Nino pressed on. 

Adrien cast his eyes at his stack of plates sitting in front of him on the green, plastic tray on the table. “At least five times.”

“Five?” Alya said, tilting her head. “Just five?”

“In the past two months,” Adrien said, drawing a breath through his nose. 

Marinette squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, Adrien.”

“That’s not right,” Nino pointed out, setting his jaw. “That’s totally uncool, my dude. And don’t tell me your father abandoning you doesn’t hurt. Because that’s what he’s doing.”

Adrien gasped. Had his father truly abandoned him? “No,” Adrien pleaded, desperately trying to pretend everything was okay. “He wouldn’t abandon his son.” He laced his fingers between Marinette’s. “Would he?”

Marinette, Nino, and Alya stared back at him. They nodded in unison.

Adrien sat back in his chair. Back when his mother had first left, he’d suffered nightly panic attacks, worried that his father would leave, too. He’d needed to attend sessions with Dr. Pemberley to help him process his feelings of abandonment.

And now that Nino had pointed out that his father had effectively done that, Adrien’s worst fears had come to life. 

He didn’t feel panicked at all; he didn’t even pant. Adrien just felt tired. So, so tired. And numb, from the eyes down. They prickled with tears despite himself.

“Oh,” he whispered, unable to say anything else.

Nino gripped his shoulder and shook it a little. “I’m sorry, my man,” he soothed. “But at least he’s not violent, right?”

Adrien stiffened. “He’s…”

Marinette growled. “Has he threatened you?”

Alya’s gaze flicked from Adrien to Nino, and back again. “Adrien, it’s okay. If your father’s abusing you, you can tell us.”

“He’s never hit me,” Adrien confessed, barely able to hear the words spilling from his mouth. “But back when my mom was… here, he’d go into these rages. He’d break things, throw furniture. Mother would tell me to go hide under the bed until the storm passed.”

The boy shuddered, his vision going black around the edges. “That stopped when she left. Until the day I lost his book.”

Marinette gasped, her hands releasing his and going to her mouth. Adrien didn’t know why she was having that reaction, but he would have to ask her later. He needed to get the words out before he lost his nerve. “He broke everything in his study. I… I heard him from my room. I ran downstairs, and Nathalie stopped me. S-She said…”

Nino’s hand on his shoulder steadied him. “What did she say?”

“‘Your father is very busy,’” Adrien intoned, mimicking Nathalie’s impassive tone. 

Alya clenched her fists. “What the heck, Agreste? You’ve been terrified in your own house. Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, her gaze on him soft. “I would have wanted to know, Adrien.”

Adrien drew a few more breaths through his nose. He tried to be calm, but his voice cracked. “He’s never hit me! He’s only broken things. Just… stuff. And the miraculous cure fixed it all anyway.” Adrien smiled tremulously at his friends. “It’s not that bad, really. My father hasn’t had another one of those fits since.”

Nino glared fiercely at Adrien. Adrien flinched away from his stare, but still looked him in the eyes. “If he ever does hit you,” the DJ warned, gripping the edges of the table, “then you do not hesitate to call the cops. And then you come stay with me. You got it?”

“Or me,” Alya added, placing her hand over her heart. 

“Or me,” Marinette said, clutching at his hand in both of hers. “Any of our homes are welcome to you, Adrien.”

Tears stung Adrien’s eyes for the second time during that conversation. He wiped them away with his free hand. “Thanks, guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien convinces Chloe to apologize to Marinette.

“First you want me to apologize to Ladybug, and now Dupain-Cheng?” Chloé snarled at Adrien on his Friday playdate, lips twisting into a fierce frown. “What is it with you and girls in pigtails?”

“You’ve known her for years, right?” Adrien replied, matching her expression. “You can’t tell me you were nice to her the entire time.” He growled. “You put gum on her seat the first day I came to school.”

Chloé let loose an explosive sigh and stepped away from him, walking towards the window of her suite at the Grand Paris hotel. To greet him, she’d wrapped her arms around his neck in her usual clinging way, and a rush of air filled the space she left. Adrien breathed deeply, catching the cloying scent of her perfume still lingering around him.

He wondered if he smelled like her now. He followed her to the window.

“Adrikiiiiins,” Chloé whined, her frown morphing into a pout as she turned back to him. “You can’t act like a white knight for every girl you have a crush on.”

“I’m not,” Adrien said, pursing his lips. “I only have a crush on two girls.”

“What? You can’t tell me you’ve never had a crush on a celebrity!” 

“Ladybug is a celebrity,” he groused, shaking his head. “And you’re avoiding the topic. All you have to do is apologize to Marinette for bullying her for years. It’s not hard.”

Chloé scoffed. “You underestimate the difficulty of eating humble pie.”

Adrien took her by the shoulders. “Chlo. I know you’re a good person who’s just made terrible mistakes.”

Chloé huffed, looking away.

“A _lot_ of terrible mistakes,” Adrien continued, which seemed to endear him to his friend even less. “My point, Chlo, is that I know you can apologize. You’ve done it before.”

“Why should _I_ have to apologize to _her_?” Chloé snapped, cocking her hip and curling her hand around the bone. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn’t worth the dirt off my shoes.”

Adrien squinted at her. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. What do you have against Marinette anyway? What did she ever do to you?”

Chloé’s eyebrows pinched together. Her shoulders tensed under his grip, and her teeth clenched together in a scowl. “What do you know, Adrien? You were homeschooled for most of your life!”

Adrien swallowed his knee-jerk reaction to harangue her. There was clearly something going on under the surface, and she was lashing out, he reasoned. He didn’t want to put her even more on the defensive.

So he released her shoulders and wrapped her up in his arms. She stiffened in his hold and then relaxed. “It’s okay, Chlo,” Adrien soothed. “Why do you bully people? You can tell me.”

“I don’t _bully_ people.” Chloé sniffed, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulder blades. “I just put them in their place.”

“That’s bullying, Chlo,” Adrien said, pressing his clean-shaven cheek against hers.

She leaned his head on his shoulder instead, her own sagging. He held on to her gently, giving her space to consider his words. She was silent for a long time, but when she finally spoke, her voice was meek and quiet. “... Is it?”

“Yes,” Adrien cheered, hope curling behind his breastbone. If he could make Chloé see what she’d done to others… maybe she could improve, and earn more friends. “So why do you do that? Do you really think you’re better than other people?”

“Of course,” Chloé asserted, and Adrien’s heart sank.

“Really?” Adrien objected, pulling back to look her in the eye. “Really, really? Tell me honestly: do you think you’re better than others?”

Chloé looked away again.

“Why do you think that, Chlo?”

Chloé broke from his embrace, shoving him away by his shoulders. “For someone who talks big about bullying, you’re sure being mean to me, Adrien!” She turned away from him, hugging herself.

“Am I?” Adrien whispered, his gaze softening. “I’m sorry.”

“Ugh!” Chloé cried, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

Adrien smiled. “It wasn’t hard to apologize to you, Chlo. I want you to feel better.”

Chloé fixed him with a look. “Why are you pressing me to apologize to Dupain-Cheng? Does she give great blowjobs or something?”

Adrien choked. Heat flooded his face. “My sex life is none of your business.”

Chloé pounced. “Aha, I knew it,” she crowed gleefully. “You’re at her beck and call because she sucks--”

“Don’t go there, Chlo,” Adrien bit out frostily, and she started. All traces of his blush evaporated as he continued. “I’ve sat back and let you hurt people, thinking you’d eventually come around and stop. But I’m not taking the high road anymore, and if you attack Marinette again, you’ll have to answer to _me_.” 

Chloé stepped back, her hand coming up to her mouth. “Who are you and what have you done with Adrien?”

“I’m sick of you hurting the people I care about,” Adrien snapped, tempted to advance on her. He realized that he didn’t need to threaten her physically to make his point, so he stood stock still, fists clenched at his sides. “You’re a bully, Chlo. I don’t know why, but I almost don’t care anymore. But I can’t be friends with someone who can’t be nice to others.”

Chloé’s eyes tightened, and her breath hitched. She covered her mouth and nose with her hands, and spoke between them. “Don’t,” she pleaded, and lowered her hands. “Don’t say that, Adrikins.”

She reached out, touching his shoulder, and he jerked it out of her grip. “Don’t call me pet names. If you’re not willing to put the effort in to stop bullying, then you don’t deserve to address me like that.”

Tears welled in Chloé’s angry eyes. She stomped her foot. “I don’t need you, Adrien Agreste!”

“No,” Adrien said, folding his arms. He stared at the floor, unable to bear even looking at her anymore. “You don’t.”

Chloé gasped. She looked like she was going to draw back from him and cave in on herself, aggrieved and wounded. Instead, she surprised him by launching herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder. “D-Don’t leave me!”

Adrien rubbed her back, listening to her cry herself out. “Ssh, Chlo, it’s okay,” he soothed, sighing. She was so volatile; he never knew what she was going to do next. And he’d pushed her again, pushed her to apologize before she was ready. Feeling the sobs wrack her body under his hands, he mentally kicked himself. “I’m sorry.”

“D-Don’t apologize to me again!” Chloé insisted, her voice bordering on a wail. “I can’t stand how _nice_ you are.”

“I’m not that nice,” Adrien murmured into her hair. He closed his eyes, thinking on all the times he’d hurt his friends--intentionally and not. All the times he’d hurt Chloé. Like now.

She pulled back from him, and he opened his eyes to meet her gaze. “Yes, you are,” Chloé challenged, hiccuping. “And I know you want me to be nice, too, but I’m not _like_ you, Adrien. Everyone loves you.” She lowered her gaze to the floor. “No one loves me.”

“I love you, Chlo,” Adrien assured, before he thought about it. Did he love Chloé? She was his oldest friend, and they had a lot in common. He genuinely thought she was a good person, but she did need to try harder to be kind and compassionate. 

“Really?” Chloé said, raising her eyes to look at him. The hope in them stung him.

Adrien decided that he did love her, despite her faults. But he was definitely tired of her being mean to Marinette. “Yes, really.”

Chloé’s lower lip quivered. Fat droplets spilt from her eyes onto her cheeks. “You’re the only one who does. My mother doesn’t even remember my name from day to day.”

“Is that why you bully people?” Adrien whispered, smoothing his hand over her hair.

Chloé stared at him. Then she let loose a piteous cry and slammed her head onto his shoulder, her own shaking with her renewed sobs. “I’m n-not a bully!”

“You are, Chlo,” Adrien said, lifting her chin to force her to look him in the eyes. “You are. You’ve been one for years.”

Chloé’s eyes flicked away from his. Her chest shuddered. “What do I do?”

“Stop picking on people,” Adrien suggested, offering her a soft smile he hoped was encouraging. “And apologize to those you’ve hurt.”

Chloé sniffled. “Including Dupain-Cheng?” 

“You have hurt her,” Adrien pointed out, nodding minutely, “so yes.”

“I can’t do it, Adrien,” Chloé objected, jerking her head away from him and screwing her eyes shut. “I can’t face her.”

“Look at me, Chlo.”

Chloé turned her head back to him, opening her glistening eyes. “Yeah, Adrien?”

“You don’t have to face her,” he assured, tilting his head. “But I do want you to try to make amends.”

“How do I do that?”

Adrien thought about that. Earlier, when he’d asked Chloé to apologize to Ladybug, the girl had written a letter to the superheroine. Adrien never saw the message, but from the highlights Ladybug had given him, it was awful. Chloé had apologized… for Ladybug being a fashion disaster. Adrien was tempted to facepalm just thinking about it. So he wanted a different approach for Chloé now.

He licked his lips. “Actions speak louder than words. I want you to think hard about a way you can make amends.”

Chloé stuck the tongue out of the corner of her lips. By the furrow in her brow, Adrien knew she was considering his words. “So what is she into? Dogs? I can get her a puppy.”

“She’s… She likes drawing,” Adrien ventured, floundering for a moment when he knew he shouldn’t. “And fashion.”

“Drawing? I can get her a nice set of new pencils,” Chloé said, smirking. “Pencils are expensive, and there’s no way poor-as-dirt Dupain-Cheng can afford them.”

Adrien wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know if throwing your father’s money at the problem would be a true apology.”

Chloé let out a long suffering sigh. “Well, then tell me what to do!”

“This has to come from you, Chlo.”

Chloé frowned. “Ugh. So, fashion?”

“Fashion,” Adrien replied, nodding. “She’s a designer. She makes her own clothes.”

“I can tell,” Chloé said, sneering. “Her outfits look like she pulled them from a--”

“Chlo,” Adrien warned, his gaze hardening. “Don’t.”

She sighed again, less intensely this time. “ _Fine_ , Agreste, I’ll leave your little girlfriend alone,” Chloé promised. “Does… Does she have a portfolio?”

“Of course.”

“Then give it to me,” Chloé demanded, making a grabbing motion with her hand. “I can set up an interview with a famous designer that my mom has connections with.”

Adrien brightened. He kissed Chloé’s cheek. “That’s great, Chlo! Marinette will love that.”

“Of course she will.” Chloé snorted in a rather unladylike fashion. “It’s coming from me.”

Adrien rolled his eyes.

But he did not expect Chloé’s next question, nor the meek, broken way she said it. “So she’ll forgive me?”

“Chloé.” Adrien winced, biting his lip. “I don’t want to get your hopes up. Marinette’s a forgiving person, but you shouldn’t expect her to accept your attempts to make amends or even trust you. She probably won’t ever want to see you again.”

“I don’t want to see her either,” Chloé said bitterly, “so we’re golden.”

Adrien winced. Her answer made him feel they were taking one step forward, two steps back. “That’s fair, I guess,” he conceded, lifting one of his shoulders in a half-shrug. “But you should still apologize.”

Chloé sulked. Her face was pinched, as if she’d bitten into a piece of camembert. “I really, really don’t want to,” she stressed, and Adrien’s heart sank. Her next words lifted him up again. “But I will.”

Adrien beamed at her. “I’m proud of you, Chlo. You should be proud of you, too.”

“Sure,” Chloé mumbled, looking away. “Super proud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien has a sleepover with Nino, Alya, and Marinette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Adrien has a nightmare concerning previous events in the story.

TRIGGER WARNING: Adrien has a nightmare concerning previous events in the story.

“Listen to this.” Alya chuckled, bouncing in her seat next to Nino on Marinette’s chaise longue in her plaid, flannel pajamas. “‘Chapter Six: The Eager Servant. The round orb of day hung low in the sky like an apple hanging low on the branches of a particularly slovenly tree. Isha found herself in the sumptuous, luxurious garden with her feet bare to the rich, moist soil as she longed to be bare to her virile lover.’”

Marinette had invited Nino, Adrien, and Alya over for a sleepover on Friday night, after Adrien’s playdate with Chloé. Adrien had to bribe the Gorilla not to email Nathalie and Gabriel, who were still in Milan, and the bodyguard agreed after Adrien presented him with some limited-edition Majestia figures. 

Marinette couldn’t wear her Eiffel Tower pendant or her ring even at home, as Alya would have recognized them. Adrien thought that was a shame.

The girls were reading select, terrible passages of romance novels to the boys, giggling at Adrien’s fitful blushing and other reactions. Marinette’s parents had graciously allowed him to join the fun once they learned he was all alone in his house--provided that he and Nino slept in the downstairs spare bedroom once the fun was over for the evening.

Alya had asked if _she_ could share the bed with Nino, but Marinette had had to turn her down with an apology. “Sorry, Alya,” Marinette had said. “My parents are cool, but not that cool.”

Now, just after midnight, Adrien lay on pillows on the floor, snuggled warmly under a weighted blanket, his head in Marinette’s lap. She’d threaded her fingers through his hair, almost lulling him to sleep with the comfort she offered him. He wouldn’t want to trade his place in this moment of time for anything in the entire world. 

Even if he had been lightly teased for wearing a full-on Ladybug-themed onesie, complete with antennae on the hood.

Marinette laughed uproariously at Alya’s reading. “Oh, gosh, Alya, that’s a terrible way to set a scene!”

Marinette’s laughter sure was an ugly thing, Adrien thought, smiling to himself. She guffawed and snorted--cackling, really. It had started out as clear and pretty as a bell, but as the girls had started reading about the unfurling of moist, womanly petals and other things, her laughter had become more and more ridiculous. _And cute._ She threw her whole body into it. Her joy was infectious. 

Alya continued reading. “‘Isha wore the flowing garment Mathazar liked so much, clinging to her body the way he would often cling to her. Isha gasped. “Mathazar!” She gasped again, whirling around in the emerald strands of grass like a dervish to face her lover who had all the stately grandeur of a cathedral.’”

Adrien chuckled. “A cathedral? What is he, Notre Dame? Does he have stained glass windows for eyes? Would those be the windows to his soul?”

Nino snickered. “That’s pretty terrible, even for you, Adrien.”

“Ssh,” Marinette chided them both, scratching Adrien’s scalp.

Alya reached for some popcorn from the bowl Nino held and popped some in her mouth, chewing and swallowing. “‘Mathazar swept forward like a sparkling, silver ocean.’”

“Oh, he sparkles now?” Adrien grinned. “Fantastic.”

“Of course he does. All the greatest virile lovers sparkle,” Nino affirmed and then nudged his girlfriend. “And you love it, don’t you, Alya?”

Alya rolled her eyes and continued, “‘He immediately swamped Isha’s overwhelmed senses with his spicy, masculine scent and strong arms encircling her lithe, undulating body,” Alya read, crossing her legs under her. “‘“Oh, Isha!” he groaned. “I want you. Again!” “Oh, Mathazar!” she cried. “Take me! Again!” Isha gasped once more, as if all the air was being squeezed out of her in his firm, tight grip.’”

The force of Mathazar’s love flowed unbridled into Isha’s love cave, but the three listeners nearly drowned Alya out with laughter when Isha’s breasts barrel-rolled across Mathazar’s mouth like starfighters arching across the crystal-strewn sky.

“N-No way,” Marinette gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. “It can’t possibly say that.”

“Oh, but it does,” Alya assured, with a toothy grin. “‘He kissed her then, kissing her like she’d never been kissed before and would probably never be kissed again, until he kissed her once more, later. Isha sleeked her finger down his muscled chest and…’” Alya cleared her throat. “I probably shouldn’t read the next part. It’s too embarrassing.”

“Oh, please?” Marinette insisted, leaning forward. She’d stopped petting Adrien in her eagerness to hear more, which he was grumpy about, but he wasn’t about to ask her for more. He wouldn’t make demands on her for affection; he wasn’t about to be that needy. “Please, Alya? Read more, won’t you? I’ll read my novel after this passage.”

“Yeah, foxy lady,” Nino teased, beaming at her. “You can handle a little embarrassment.”

“Please?” Adrien added.

Alya sighed. “I can never say no to the kitten eyes,” she confessed, shaking her head. She found the passage in the book. “‘...down his curly, fawn-colored treasure trail and thick, sweaty Adonis belt to his throbbing, tumescent tube of fire. “Take me!” she screamed, digging her fingers into his hair and pulling with abandon--”

“Really?” Adrien queried, his brows raising. “Ow.” 

“‘--and running her hands over his broad, potent shoulders,’” Alya finished. She tossed the book onto the reclining seat with a laugh and noshed on a chocolate croissant. “Your turn, Marinette!”

A faint blush dusted Marinette’s cheeks. “Okay, my romance novel is called Adella’s Game,” she started, turning to pick up the book from the floor near her thigh, where she’d laid it before she’d sat down. 

The front cover sported a Fabio-like model wearing an unlaced, peasant-style shirt, gripping a woman with a slit in her green, velvet dress all the way up her leg. Adrien had read the beginning of this particular novel before, when Marinette had been too distracted with designing to realize that he was there. 

He’d found the steamy passages of purple prose… stimulating. Heat flowed into his face in anticipation, and he licked his lips. His companions didn’t seem to notice.

Marinette flipped to the middle of the book. “‘The evil Adella walked towards the heroic Brasdan in a slow, relaxed manner, without hurry or effort. His bare chest glistened with sweat that smelled delicious to Adella,’” Marinette read, and to Adrien, the words were even hotter falling from her lips. “‘He struggled against his bonds, snarling at her.”

“He’s bound again?” Adrien said, blinking up at his girlfriend. “How many times does she tie him up in this book?”

“Um,” Marinette said, running her finger along the pages. “Three?”

“Dang,” Nino said, scarfing down some popcorn. “Why do you know how many times he’s been bound?”

Alya turned to Adrien with a wicked grin. “What do you think, Adrien? Bound or unbound?”

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked, furrowing his brow at her. 

“Alya!” Marinette cried, the novel shaking in her hands.

Nino chuckled. “Now you’re embarrassing Marinette, Lois Lane.”

Alya ignored their objections. “Would you prefer to be bound or unbound?” Alya queried, spreading her hands in a questioning gesture. “Tied up. Completely submissive, and there’s nothing you can do about it...” 

“Uhh,” Adrien trieds eloquently. He’d never considered the topic of bondage before, and wasn’t quite sure what he thought of it. But the idea of Marinette being in complete control, doing whatever she wished to him… Her confident hands caressing his body… Being completely unable to move… had a certain appeal. 

She was creative enough to make being bound worthwhile, he thought, and they’d already had a discussion of consent. “Um. B-Bound, I guess,” he finally answered, swallowing thickly.

“Oooh,” Alya needled, leaning forward, placing her hands on her knees. “You’re pretty, so I bet Ladybug would truss you up in her yo-yo cable if you asked nicely. It’s too bad you’re dating my bestie already.”

“Alya!” Marinette cried again, dropping the novel in front of her and holding her apple-red cheeks.

Adrien squeaked, his pulse racing. He’d considered Marinette binding him. He’d never considered _Ladybug._ Marinette donning her costume and doing whatever she wanted with him… The thought was too much, and he brought his hands out from under the weighted blanket to cover his heated face. 

“You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you!” Alya crowed, giggling through her words. “Holy cow, Agreste, I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“Of course he’s thinking about it, Alya,” Nino said, sounding exasperated to Adrien’s ears. “You put the idea into his head.”

Adrien peeked at her through his fingers. He didn’t dare look at Marinette, but he could feel her blush radiating off her face from her lap. The boy tried to catch his breath, warmth spreading from his chest to the roots of his hair. “I, um…”

“So, next question,” Alya pushed on, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “Stepped on, or not stepped on?”

Adrien choked. He squirmed like a worm on a hook. _This is fine,_ he tried to tell himself. _The teasing is fine._ They were all friends there, and he didn’t want to ruin Alya’s fun. She seemed so happy to poke fun at him, and he didn’t want to spoil the smile on her face. 

But Adrien wasn’t used to being teased, even gently. 

He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t.

His lower lip quivered, so he bit his knuckles.

Marinette took one look at his face and gasped. “Alya, stop,” his girlfriend demanded, in a tone that brooked no argument. “You’re going too far. Adrien’s getting upset.”

“Seriously,” Nino affirmed, poking his girlfriend in the shoulder. “My man isn’t used to this kind of ribbing, y’know? Adrien’s never been to a sleepover before.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” Alya apologized immediately, looking downcast. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, it’s fine really,” Adrien assured, his voice breaking into a higher octave. He’d done it. He’d made her sad. “You can keep going. I’m fine.”

“Adrien,” Marinette asked, smoothing his bangs off his forehead. “What are you really feeling?” She frowned down at him, and he winced. “Don’t lie to me, Kitty.”

That was Ladybug asking him. Ladybug, who was also Marinette. His girlfriend. 

And she had asked all of him not to lie to her.

Nino and Alya waited with bated breath. 

Marinette cupped his cheeks. “Tell me?” 

“I’m… I’m upset,” Adrien admitted, tempted to rub the back of his head, but not wanting to move from his position on Marinette’s lap. His chest shuddered. “Nino’s right. I’m not used to being teased like this. It’s not a problem, I mean--”

“Dude,” Nino interrupted, shaking his head. “If you’re upset, there’s a problem.”

“I am sorry, Adrien,” Alya repeated, placing her hand over her heart. “I didn’t mean to hurt you at all.”

Was he hurt? Adrien decided he was. “I forgive you, Alya. You didn’t mean anything by it.” He offered each of them a shy smile. “And I’m already feeling better.”

Marinette stroked his cheekbones with her thumb. “Good. Shall we get back to reading Adella’s Game?”

Adrien’s shy smile became a blinding beam. “Let’s.”

“Yeah,” Nino said, looping an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. “I want to hear what happened to Brasdan.”

“Me, too,” Alya agreed, regaining some of her former cheer. 

“Well, all right, then!” Marinette conceded, releasing Adrien’s face to pick up the book. She found her place again and scanned the words with her eyes. 

“‘Brasdan’s bare back arched. Fat, wet sweat droplets bounced off his brilliant, coruscating skin. “Confound you, witch!” he bellowed masculinely,’” Marinette continued, and Adrien couldn’t look anywhere but her pink lips as they read the words.

Then Ayla arrested his attention. “What’s coruscating?”

“Dunno,” Nino remarked, tilting his head. “Adrien?”

“Coruscating means flashing or sparkling,” Adrien offered, nestling under the weighted blanket again. “It also means brilliant.”

Alya cackled. “So he has brilliant, brilliant skin?”

“And he sparkles, too?” Nino inquired, dipping into the popcorn bowl again.

“You’re so smart, Adrien,” Marinette commended, and the boy basked in the praise, feeling just as comfortable in that blanket as he did under the weighted one.

Marinette turned the page. “‘Adella simpered. “You’ve fallen right into my manic clutches!” she cried, and then she--’ Oh. _Oh._ ” Marinette mumbled, and tossed the book aside. “That book is no good. We shouldn’t read it anymore.”

“What!” Alya protested, throwing her hands in the air, breaking Nino’s hold on her and nearly unbalancing her boyfriend off the chaise. “After you begged me to read mine?”

“Uncool, Marinette,” Nino added, though by the twinkling of his eyes and the curve of his smile, Adrien knew he was teasing her.

 _He may be ribbing Alya as well, come to think of it,_ Adrien thought, grinning at his friends.

Marinette held up her hands. “Trust me. Reading this particular scene is a bad idea.”

Adrien glanced up at the underside of her chin. Her neck was so _pretty_ , but he was trying not to get distracted by how gorgeous his girlfriend was. “Why?”

“Seriously,” Alya questioned, folding her arms. “Why, Marinette?”

Marinette looked all around the room, seeming to avoid looking at Adrien. “I… I don’t want to tell you.”

“That’s cool, Dudette,” Nino reassured. 

But Alya disagreed. “Do you not trust us to handle this?” 

“What’s wrong, Mari?” Adrien asked gently.

Marinette’s soft gaze finally settled on him. She worried her lip, and Adien wanted nothing more than to reach up and free it from the grip of her teeth. “Adella…” Marinette started, and stopped. Then she took the plunge. “Adella forces a kiss on Brasdan in this chapter.” 

“Oh,” Nino and Alya chorused in unison, looking to Adrien. 

Adrien blanched. He was instantly transported back to Lila forcing her tongue into his mouth. “Oh,” he breathed, trying not to gag. “But Brasdan wanted it, right? Aren’t they psuedo-lovers, despite being enemies?”

“Eeeh,” Marinette stammered, her hands fluttering around her face like caged birds. “He wants her, but he didn’t agree to this kiss. It’s not a great representation of the consent lessons I tried to give you.”

Alya sucked a breath over her teeth. “You had to give him lessons on consent? Consent is super important!”

Nino scowled down at the pair of them. “Your old man failed you there, too, huh?”

Adrien wriggled under the weighted blanket. “Yeah, I guess.” 

Even though he’d long ago come to the realization that his father didn’t care for him--and possibly never had--Adrien was still hesitant to throw Gabriel under the bus. Adrien admitting to his friends that his father had neglected him in yet another way was painful, every time. It just forced him to reevaluate his relationship to Gabriel over and over, and Adrien was sick of it. Couldn’t he just love the man? Couldn’t Adrien just be loved?

Why wasn’t their relationship normal, like Marinette and her parents’ relationship? Why was the man so controlling? Why didn’t Gabriel even seem to like him?

Adrien didn’t know the answers to any of those questions, and the more he thought about them, the more resigned he felt. Not sad, not angry--just numb and resigned. His father had always made him feel subdued. 

Marinette, on the other hand, had enough anger for both of them. “He’s a terrible father to you.”

“He really is, Dude,” Nino said, and Alya nodded.

Adrien sighed. He didn’t want to agree. “Can we just read the previous book, since Adella’s Game is no good? I don’t really want to ruin the fun with my problems with _Gabriel_.”

It was the first time Adrien had called his father by name in his friends’ presence. Saying the man’s name rather than respectfully calling him Father was just another way Adrien found he was slowly disconnecting from him.

“Yeah,” Alya acknowledged, wrinkling her nose. “He sucks and he’s not worth dwelling on.” She picked up the book she’d previously cast aside. “Chapter Six: The Bloodred Moon’s Day…”

***

“Cataclysm!” Chat screamed, feeling the warm, tingly power flood his hand. Whipping his baton to the side, Chat started closing the distance between him and Marinette in the middle of the street, aiming for the Eiffel Tower resting above her breasts.

Chat snarled as anger flooded his vision; he was going to kill her. She deserved to die. Marinette screamed as he approached her, but he was too fast for her. He grasped her wrist, and she whipped her head up. 

Marinette fixed him with a horrified, pained look.

Just as she blackened and turned to an ash statue of herself.

Chat whipped his hand away, gasping. As he did, the statue dissolved, sinking to the ground in a black, powdery pile of residue. Chat dropped to his knees, hyperventilating and choking on both cinders and his own tears. He sifted through the pile with trembling hands, trying in vain to put the love of his life back together again.

_I killed her killed her killed her--_

_\--and I wanted to--_

“Dude!” Nino’s voice intruded upon Chat’s consciousness. Adrien felt his shoulder being shaken, but didn’t see Nino at all. “Wake up, Adrien!”

Adrien’s eyes snapped open, his chest heaving. A scream had built up in his throat and closed it off. A spate of coughing tore from his mouth; apparently he’d choked on his drool. He rolled over on his side and struggled to breathe. 

Nino rubbed his back. Adrien’s teeth hurt and his face was wet. Had he been crying? Had he gritted his teeth in his sleep? He panted through a clenched jaw, feeling lightheaded even when he was lying down. 

“You okay, my man?” Nino whispered, and Adrien rolled over to face him. Nino took one look at Adrien’s face and said, “Whoa. That must have been some nightmare.”

“Y-Yeah,” Adrien choked out. He swallowed and tried again. “It really was.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Adrien shook his head, and Nino shrugged. “Okay, bro,” Nino conceded. “Just know that I’m here if you ever wanna talk.”

“T-Thanks, Nino,” Adrien gasped, clutching his chest in an effort to slow his breathing. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Nino affirmed, squeezing his shoulder. “You gonna be okay to sleep after this?”

“Yeah,” Adrien assured, willing that to be true. He drew a breath in through his nose, and his vision cleared. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Nino gave him a thumbs up and rolled over. Adrien hunkered down in the blankets and closed his eyes. 

***

“--drien.” Marinette was whispering his name for some reason, Adrien realized, as he slowly came to awareness, eyes still glued shut by sleep.

 _What? Why is Marinette in my room?_ There was a pressure on his chest. He felt a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him, and recognized the presence of a separate warm body next to him in the bed. The person was snoring. 

“Adrien,” Marinette tried again.

He peeled his eyes open and searched for her face. _Ah,_ he thought, seeing Nino slumbering next to him. Nino had thrown an arm around Adrien, pinning him to the mattress. _The sleepover. Right. I’m at the Dupain-Cheng’s._

“Adrien!” she hissed quietly. 

“Guh?” he gaped, his mouth feeling fuzzy as his gaze snapped to her concerned face. “What? What time is it?”

“It’s ten after five,” she answered, releasing his shoulder and leaning back.

“In the morning?” Adrien questioned, blinking blearily. “Didn’t we go to sleep at around three?”

“We did,” Marinette murmured, an apologetic look flashing over her drawn, pale face. “I came to check on you. But I had to wake you because you were purring in your sleep.”

“Wait, what?” Adrien sputtered, and almost sat up in the bed on instinct. He stopped himself just in time, not wanting to disturb Nino. “I’d better not go back to sleep.”

“My parents are up, prepping cinnamon rolls,” Marinette reported, tilting her head. “Do you want one?”

Adrien licked his lips. A cinnamon roll from the Dupain-Cheng bakery sounded divine. “Sure, thanks.”

He slid a foot off the edge of the bed and placed it on the floor, carefully extricating himself from Nino’s grip. The other boy snorted in his sleep and smacked his lips, and Adrien froze halfway off the mattress. Marinette looked at him with wide eyes.

Then Nino turned over, readjusting himself on the pillow, and started snoring again.

Adrien heaved a sigh of relief, and stood from the bed. He gave Marinette a nod, and she led him to the dining room. Marinette had already set up four plates with forks and knives. 

When Adrien and Marinette had made cinnamon rolls together back in June, she’d deliberately not offered him utensils to eat one with. She’d claimed she wanted to see him covered in frosting, so he swallowed his objections and ate with his hands, which he hated doing. The roll had been messy, extremely messy, but delicious, so he figured the irritation of getting his hands dirty was worth the flavor.

Now, Marinette had provided forks, which Adrien was grateful for. He sat down at the table in the spot he usually sat in as Chat, feeling warm and comfortable--if still exhausted. His eyes were sandy, but he knew that if he closed them, he’d fall asleep on the spot. Still, he blinked a few times, trying to clear his fuzzy head.

Marinette sat down beside him, and gave him a tired smile. She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hands. "I like your Ladybug pajamas, by the way. That's what we should have teased you about last night. More than we did, anyway."

Adrien laughed. "Shame you don't have a Chat Noir shirt. Then we could match."

She brightened. "I could make one. I could even mimic the piping on your suit, but in dayglow green thread."

He booped her nose. "Is this the start of an entire fashion line of superhero-themed merchandise?"

"Could be," Marinette mused, her smile turning sly. "People would snap it up like hot cakes."

"They totally would," Adrien agreed, nodding. "After all, the website that I ordered the Ladybug onesie was out of stock for a while. I had to wait to get these before they were snapped up."

Marinette giggled. “You really wanted those, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Adrien confirmed, and took her chin into his hand, to impress upon her the seriousness of his words. “I really love the girl beneath the Ladybug mask.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. Then she relaxed into a beaming grin. “She’s very lucky.”

He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. Adrien didn’t pull away, so he was speaking against them. “I’m the lucky one.”

“Adrien,” Marinette started, tracing his lips with her tongue.

Adrien was just about to surge forward and close the distance between them when Sabine burst through the door with a tray of cinnamon rolls in one hand and a plastic spatula in the other. Adrien and Marinette jerked away from each other to face her.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late!” Sabine apologized, rushing over to them. “And I’m sorry we can’t join you, like I said we would. The bakery just received a giant order that’s going to take us all day to fill, and we have regular customers to prep for as well, so we’ll be busy today.”

She quickly scooped two steaming cinnamon rolls as big as Adrien’s head from the tray and placed them onto their waiting plates. “Take care, you two, and make sure to drink some milk to counteract all the sugar in the rolls!” 

“Yes, Maman!” Marinette promised, just as Adrien said, “Of course, Sabine!”

The woman swept from the room without a backward glance. 

Marinette and Adrien stared after her. Then they turned to each other with matching sheepish grins.

Adrien picked up his utensils. “Shall we dig into the rolls while they’re still hot?” 

“Sure!” Marinette cheered, but then pushed herself back from the table. “But let me get us some milk, first.” 

Marinette stood and crossed to the kitchen, retrieving the milk. She returned to the table with the gallon jug and two glasses, which she filled.

Adrien thanked her, and downed half of his cold beverage. She sat down and took a bite of her cinnamon roll. He tore into his own with his fork and knife, stuffing a giant piece into his mouth, barely chewing before he swallowed it. Ignoring Marinette, he took another bite, and another.

She laid a hand on his arm and he started out of his trance. “You’re eating too fast again, love.”

Adrien gulped around the piece of roll in his throat. He drained the rest of his glass, and Marinette refilled it. “Sorry,” he whispered, staring at his feet. Shame heated his face. “I… I’ll try not to do that anymore.”

“I mean, I understand?” Marinette offered, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Not to compare you to an animal, but a stray cat that has had to fight for food all its life will gobble down kibble really fast even if there's no other cat in the room.”

Adrien beamed a little. “Kitten comparisons? That’s apt.”

Marinette’s lips twitched into a smile, which quickly faded. “You were traumatized, Adrien. You went without food for so long. And now, even though you’re getting enough food to sustain yourself, you’re still scared it’ll be taken away from you.”

Adrien nodded slowly, his fingers tightening around his fork. “So what do I do?”

“The obvious answer is ‘slow down,’” Marinette instructed, stroking the back of his hand until he relaxed his bloodless grip. “But you won’t do that unless you train yourself.”

“How do I do that?”

Marinette raised her head. “I’m not sure. How about eating small bites? And trying to savor the food? Think about the taste of it?” 

“I can do that,” Adrien promised, but he was surprised when she plucked the fork out of his hand and set it beside his plate. “Hey-- ”

“You can also set your fork down between bites.” Marinette grinned cheekily at him.

“Sneaky,” Adrien teased, and rubbed his nose against hers. “I can try that; we’ll see if it works.”

Marinette cupped his cheek, and then drew her hand away, laughing. “You have stubble!”

Adrien rubbed his own face, poking his fingers. “Ugh. I forgot to shave yesterday, too. And maybe the day before that. It’s so hard to keep track.”

“You… You don’t look bad with stubble,” Marinette assured, giving him a shifty look.

Adrien perked up, his brows raising. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Marinette confirmed, gently scratching his cheeks. “I mean, it makes you look older. A lot older. And it defines your jawline really well.”

“My babyface is a big part of the brand,” Adrien sighed. “My father wanted me to get laser hair removal.”

Marinette’s scowl was a fierce thing. Her eyebrows pinched together, and her lips turned down at the corners. Adrien wondered if she’d get wrinkles in her forehead, the expression was so violent. “He did _what_?”

Adrien shrugged. “Apparently he’d gotten the same done to his face when he was about my age. Explains why I’ve never seen him with a beard. I think he gets it done every few years.”

“Your father is so messed up,” Marinette huffed, cupping Adrien’s stubbly cheeks. “Promise me you won’t let him blast your face with lasers.”

“I’ll try,” Adrien swore, plastering a fake smile on his lips. “I asked him if he wanted to see what I was like with a beard before he made a decision like that. Maybe when I’m eighteen…”

Marinette laughed. “That’s sort of manipulative, Adrien, but I’m glad it worked.”

 _Manipulative?_ Adrien thought, blanching. He didn’t think he was manipulative, but he’d done a similar thing to his father when Adrien had begged to quit modeling. He’d asked Gabriel if the man still wanted to protect him. His father had said yes.

Marinette’s gaze softened. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Adrien lied, picking up his fork again. He cut into his cinnamon roll, took a tiny bite, and then set the utensil down again. “These rolls are delicious. I’m amazed at how good of bakers your parents are.”

Marinette didn’t look convinced that he was fine, but she didn’t press. She simply pressed her thigh against his, offering silent support. Then she took a bite of her roll, and moaned. “Mmm. You’re so right.”

Adrien shifted in his seat, suddenly too hot in his Ladybug pajamas. Her leg was warm against his and her noises would be the death of him. “So, um, yeah, thanks for inviting me! I’ve had a really good time. Do you, uh, think the others will be up soon?” 

Marinette blinked at him. Then a wicked smirk lit up her face. “What’s wrong, Adrien? Can’t stand a minute alone with me?”

Adrien coughed into his fist. “Not when you’re… you know.”

“Yesss?” Marinette teased, trailing her fingers along his arm. He shivered.

“You know,” Adrien floundered, heat curling in his chest. “When you’re… making those noises. _Moaning._ ”

Marinette’s eyes widened. She ducked her head down and giggled a little, face lighting up like a traffic light. “Oh. Ohhh. Sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to get you all hot and bothered.”

“I’m not…” Adrien started, and then drew a deep breath through his mouth. “Okay, I guess I am.”

She cleared her throat. “So, um. How about these cinnamon rolls?”

“Yeah!” Adrien jumped on the topic like a life preserver thrown to a drowning man. “The cinnamon rolls are great. We should totally thank your parents. I mean, of course we’ll thank your parents, it’d be rude not to, and I wasn’t bred to be rude--I mean, I have _manners_ , just like most people do, actually, and… oh, geez.”

Marinette kissed his stubbly cheek. “You’re adorable, Adrien. Never change.”

Adrien beamed down at her. “Thanks, Marinette. I really am having fun hanging out with you.”

“Good,” Marinette said, booping his nose. “Come hang out with me anytime.”

“I will,” Adrien promised. 

He only hoped he could keep that promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
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	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Gabriel returns.

The sleepover on Friday had been Adrien’s last gasp of freedom. Gabriel returned late Saturday evening. Hawkmoth had thrown not one, not two, but _three_ akumas during the night, one right after the other.

Adrien had barely made it back to his bedroom and called off his transformation on Sunday morning when a coughing Nathalie had knocked on his door. “Adrien?” she had queried. A tired Plagg had hid in his shirt pocket. “Are you decent?”

“I’m in my pajamas,” Adrien called, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was six am, thirty minutes before she usually woke him up. He bit back a groan; he wouldn’t be getting any sleep today, and his limbs felt weak and numb. Luckily, he wasn’t wearing his Ladybug onesie, but his plaid, flannel pants and button-down shirt. “Please, enter.”

She opened his door and strode into the room, tablet in hand. “I’m surprised you’re up,” she commented, coughing into her fist. “Your father would like to see you. He’s already at the table.”

Adrien couldn’t help the curl of hope behind his breastbone. “He… He wants to see me?”

“Yes, Adrien,” Nathalie assured, and turned her head to let loose a spate of coughing. She held a hand up to stop his concerned advance, and turned back to him once she finished hacking up a lung. She cleared her throat. “We… He missed you.”

 _We?_ Adrien thought, beaming at her despite how badly he wanted to collapse into bed. He stepped toward Nathalie and touched her shoulder. His smile was warm, and his words were warmer. “Thank you for telling me, Nathalie.” 

Her lips quirked minutely. Had Adrien blinked, he would have missed the expression. “You’re welcome, Adrien. Be downstairs in five.”

She abruptly turned on her heel and left. Plagg phased out of his shirt. “I’m huuuungry!”

“Go eat, Plagg,” Adrien said, laughing, leaving his starving kwami behind. 

Everything about Adrien felt heavy. The boy’s eyes were puffy and slow to blink, and stripping off his pajamas took a while, as he fumbled with the buttons. He changed as quickly as his bone-weary body would allow. His feet slapped the floor a little harder on the way to the dining room. But his father was home! And he’d missed Adrien! Nathalie had said so, so it must be true.

Now, a Plagg-less Adrien sat at the dining room table next to his father, inhaling his peach slices and plain, creamy yogurt. He hadn’t had a chance to marvel at the fact that Hawkmoth had returned, but even now he didn’t have the headspace to process that because he was desperately trying to refuel his worn-out body. 

A second wind--an adrenaline rush, which always came in the hour after a battle, no matter how tired he was--had hit him, making him antsy. But he was overjoyed to see his father. The man had been gone for an entire month, and Adrien had missed him. Sitting with him at the breakfast table, Adrien was happy.

Wasn’t he? He knew he should be. After thinking about it, he decided he was.

Adrien ate his fruit in silence. Adrien dearly missed the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie’s croissants. He was never allowed the traditional French serving of two croissants for breakfast. They contained too many calories and jam was unheard of in the Agreste manor. 

So, apparently, was conversation--until his father broke the silence with a snort. “Slow down, Adrien,” Gabriel reprimanded, sipping his black coffee. “Eating so quickly is unsightly.”

“Sorry, Father,” Adrien replied sheepishly,thoroughly chastised. He speared a golden slice of peach on his fork and took a tiny bite of it. Then he set his fork down on his plate, watching the juice of the fruit leak out from the piercing tines. “How was Milan?”

“Boring,” Gabriel divulged, his voice lacking inflection. Surprisingly, he looked as tired as Adrien felt, with telltale concealer applied to his eyebags. Adrien wondered if the man had slept at all during his month away. “Not a single designer had anything fresh this year.”

Adrien didn’t know anything about fashion. He’d never paid attention to the brands he was supposed to be modeling. He wondered if he should brush up on who the main talents were in the field, so he could understand Marinette if she inevitably gushed about them. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Adrien soothed, knowing very well just how boring a month-long trip to Milan could be. He was just grateful his father let him stay home this time. Adrien suspected that was less out of concern for his well-being and more that he would be underfoot in the hotel rooms. 

After all, he had his bodyguard there in Paris, right? Wasn’t he all Adrien needed to be happy? Or did he need his father, too?

The growing boy took another small bite of his peach and set his fork down. His nearly-empty stomach growled, and he ducked his head, embarrassed that his body had betrayed him with a noise. He wasn’t supposed to be making displeasing noises; his father had returned. 

Adrien had expected the look his father gave him for his stomach’s symphony. He didn’t expect the man to speak again, nor to clutch the boy’s chin in an iron grip.

“You need to shave, Adrien,” Gabriel demanded, turning his face this way and that. “Your facial hair is unattractive. You are too fair to grow a proper beard.”

Adrien pressed his lips together in a thin, white line. “I’ll take that under consideration.”

Gabriel brought Adrien’s face close to his, his eyes cold and glaring. “Your sass is not appreciated, boy,” his father scolded, his voice bordering on a hiss. “You will obey me. You will return to your room and shave.”

Adrien clenched his jaw, which was still captured in Gabriel’s hard grip. “Of course, Father. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

“How dare you?” Gabriel seethed, his hand tightening on Adrien’s face. The man released the boy’s face, sitting back. “I was considering eating dinner with you tonight. Due to your impudence, I do not wish to see you for the rest of the day. Leave this table immediately.”

Adrien picked up his fork and chomped down on the peach, swallowing it without chewing. He set the utensil carefully down on the plate and stalked off towards his bedroom.

Despite wanting to slam the door behind him, Adrien carefully shut it. He leaned his head against the trim, tears stinging his eyes. He refused to let them fall. His father didn’t deserve Adrien being hurt over him. 

His eyes were sandy because he was tired, that’s all. Clearly it wasn’t because he was crying.

Plagg floated over, belly distended and cheese in hand. “What happened, Kid?”

“My father’s back, Plagg,” Adrien rasped, with a broken, little laugh.

Plagg snarfed down the cheese and rubbed up against Adrien’s cheek. The boy cupped the kwami in his hand. “Take a nap, Kid. You don’t know when Hawkmoth will throw another akuma, and you need to be ready just in case.”

“That’s true,” Adrien said, his laugh bordering on hysterical now. “He’s akumatizing the crap out of people, making up for lost time.” He beamed at Plagg. “Yeah, I’ll take a nap. My father doesn’t want to see me today, so clearly I have the day to myself, right?”

Plagg gave him a toothy grin. “There’s the rebel I know.”

Adrien found his dead phone under his pillow and plugged it in next to his bed, charging the battery. He held the power button down, waking up the screen. Then he set the phone down on the floor and threw himself onto his mattress, not bothering to kick off his orange _Gabriel_ brand shoes. 

Adrien closed his eyes. He felt like he had chili powder underneath the lids. A tear escaped the corner of one, unbidden, and rolled down his cheek. He dashed it away angrily. Then he yawned, turning to lie on his side and bending one knee underneath him.

He was just about to drift off to dreamland when he heard an akuma alert sounding on his phone.

Groaning, Adrien pushed himself off the bed. He retrieved his wristbands from his desk drawer. “Plagg.”

“I’m ready, Kid.”

“Claws out.”

Ladybug was already on the scene when Chat arrived in the public square, Place Dauphine. Her Eiffel Tower pendant bounced against her chest as she whirled around. She seemed to be tossing her yo-yo in random directions. She looked absolutely fried, hair sticking out of her pigtails and her face drawn and pinched. 

“Careful, Chat!” she called as he landed near the rooftop she occupied, spinning her yo-yo in front of her. 

He only had a second to react when he felt an invisible body slam into him, knocking him onto his butt. The humanoid akuma was blue--all blue, with no signs of any other colors or textures at all, except for the black remote he held. The man flickered out of sight, a cerulean shadow that could apparently remain invisible until he touched one of them.

Chat scrambled to his feet and took up a defensive position near Ladybug, waving his baton around to try and catch the man around the middle before Chat was tackled again. “Akuma’s obviously in the remote,” he said, putting his back against his partner’s. “Seems to turn invisible at will by pressing buttons.”

“Duh, Chat,” Ladybug chided, and Chat’s ears flattened against his head. She let loose a huff of breath. “Sorry. That was unfair of me. I’m just… super tired.”

“It’s okay, Bug,” Chat soothed, pressing his head against hers briefly, to let her know he’d forgiven her. His eyes darted around, looking for the next attack. “What’s the plan?”

The akuma started chucking loose roof tiles and shards of glass at the two superheroes, flickering in and out of place when he picked up the random objects. They flew at Ladybug with high speeds created by enhanced strength, and Chat forced her to turn away with his back so he could spin his baton as a defensive shield in front of them both.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug called, throwing her yo-yo in the air. Chat saw her tiny helpers swirl in the air in his peripheral vision, dropping a tiny, pen-shaped object in her hands. “A dog-whistle? Oh… Oh, no. No!”

“Ladybug?” Chat queried, feeling her back tremble against his. He glanced over his shoulder, taking his eye off the akuma just for a second. She hugged herself, sinking down into a crouch. He kept spinning his baton, his attention split between the threat and the breaking girl he was protecting. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I can’t,” Ladybug whispered, straining his feline hearing. Then she screamed. “I can’t, Chat! I can’t do it!”

A tile shattered against Chat’s baton, and he closed his eyes just in time to feel chips bounce painfully off his lids. He opened his eyes again, trying to track the akuma. “What can’t you do, Bug?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Chat saw her clutch her head, dog whistle pressed against her temple. She wailed. “I can’t make these kinds of decisions! I can’t be the Guardian! But Fu is _gone_ and I… I just...” 

Glass shattered against Chat’s baton with a tinkling sound. Acting faster than he’d ever moved in his life, Chat scooped Ladybug up in his arms in a bridal carry and vaulted onto the nearby rooftops. He swept her away from the fight, trying to put as much distance between them and the akuma as possible. 

He knew if they ran too far away from the akuma, they’d probably not find him again for a while, but Chat had to take that risk. Ladybug was breaking down for some reason, and he had to figure out what her problem was and encourage her to fix it.

She needed him. And he needed her to think up a plan and beat the akuma. Neither of them could survive this fight without the other.

Once they were an entire arrondissement away, Chat set her down in a heap on the rooftop of the Salle Favart, a gorgeous opera house. His arms and legs shook uncontrollably, feeling like jelly. He couldn’t stop moving; he’d fall asleep on the spot. 

Ladybug was staring down at the dog whistle, her eyes glazed over. She was chewing on her lower lip, which Chat hated. He’d asked her to stop doing that a long time ago; she never did.

He replaced his baton on his back and knelt down to face her, taking her by the shoulders. “Bug. Bug! What’s the problem?”

She didn’t respond at first. He shook her shoulders. “Little mouse?”

Her attention snapped to him, the vacant look fleeing her eyes, only to be replaced by terror. She started panting. “The Lucky Charm… It’s telling me to go get another miraculous. To… to find another holder.”

“That’s all?” Chat remarked, without thinking about the words before they left his lips. “We’ve needed the help for a while now. You can--”

“You don’t understand, Chat!” Ladybug cried, clenching her fists on her knees, the fingers of one hand tight around the dog whistle. Fat droplets spilled over her mask. “If I do this, there’s no going back. I’ll have to act as the Guardian from here on out. And I don’t even know who the holder should be!”

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “Hey. Listen to me,” he whispered. “You are an amazing Guardian. Fu would be proud of you. I’m proud of you.” 

Chat drew a deep breath, trying not to close his eyes. If he did, he wouldn’t wake up again for a few hours. “But your Lucky Charm has never steered you wrong before. Why would Tikki want you to go find another holder if she didn’t think you were ready?”

Ladybug hiccuped and gulped. He wondered if she was able to get enough air, and whether she was dizzy. Her eyes were unfocused.

He waved a hand in front of her face. “My Lady?” 

Ladybug’s attention snapped forward, her gaze fixed on him. Her expressions flickered, and he shivered as he realized she was making a decision. “Okay,” she agreed. “It’s time for me to suck it up and do this. We do need the help; Hawkmoth is running us ragged.”

“Yup.” Chat grinned. He had his Lady back, and this time, the trip had been a short one. He thanked his lucky stars, and bounced on the balls of his feet. “So who should we pick?”

“Actually, I need you to go find the akuma again,” Ladybug requested, her eyes flicking across the rooftops. “He doesn’t seem like he’s too dangerous--he only turns invisible, right?--but there’s no telling what Hawkmoth will make him get up to.”

“Will do,” Chat promised, throwing her a two-fingered salute. “I’ll backtrack over to the first arrondissement, and see if he’s kicking up trouble.”

“Thanks, Chat,” Ladybug said, her attention clearly already elsewhere. He recognized that look in her eye from when she was designing--she was thinking, and thinking hard. “Call me when you find him.” She threw her yo-yo off the roof and bugged out, presumably back to her house to retrieve the extra miraculous.

Chat didn’t have to look very hard to find the problem the invisible akuma created: a massive apartment building had been set on fire. At least, Chat assumed that the akuma had started the blaze; Chat didn’t know what else an invisible akuma would do to attract his and Ladybug’s attention. 

He surveyed the scene. Smoke poured out from the apartment complex like water. He caught the flickering of a cerulean man around the building, shoving over firefighters.

 _This akuma is so… petty,_ Chat thought, frowning.

Chat flicked a button on his baton, dialing his partner. She picked up after the third ring. “Hey, LB, found the akuma. Apartment fire on Rue d’Alger in the first arrondissement.”

“Good job, Chat,” Ladybug praised, and glanced over her shoulder. “I’m almost ready. Keep him busy for me.”

“Will do, Bugaboo,” Chat assured, hanging up.

Chat’s feline ears flicked forward. To his horror, he heard faint screaming from an apartment on the third floor. _The firefighters,_ Chat thought. _They can’t hear the trapped civilian..._

Chat launched himself across the rooftops towards the room, sailing through the air before he realized what he was doing. He crashed through the window, shielding his face with his elbow from the jagged shards of glass.

His eyes stung-- _Oh, gosh,_ he thought--they stung so bad, smoke billowing into his face. The heat made wavy patterns in the air, and orange flames licked the walls all around him. The apartment building was an inferno, a slice of hell, and as Chat’s exposed skin was seared from the heat, he thoroughly regretted acting on impulse.

“Hello!” he called, using his baton to bat aside pieces of caved-in roof. Speaking was a terrible idea. He breathed in smoke, and his lungs spasmed. But he had to ask. “Is anyone in here?” 

More screaming answered him. He realized that the cries were that of a child. 

Chat leapt out of the way as part of the floor above collapsed down right where he’d been walking. Ashes blew into his eyes from the draft, and they watered terribly. The exposed parts of his face blistered in the heat, and he staggered from the pain. He sneezed and coughed, doggedly making his way from room to burning room. 

He had a job to do. No stupid fire was going to prevent him from rescuing that child.

Using his baton, he bashed through an already-splintering door. A young girl huddled in the corner, next to a crib. She was full-on sobbing.

Chat ran to her, dodging flames. He crouched down next to her, and tried to speak to reassure her, but all that passed through his peeling lips was a wheeze and a coughing fit. Recovering long enough to scoop the toddler up, Chat heaved himself out the nearby window, shielding her with his own body. Shattered glass cut his blistered skin. 

He landed on the street below, where he passed the girl off to the paramedics. He panted, his breath coming in a raspy gasp, and leaned on his baton. His head swam, as did his vision, which was blurred by unbidden tears. Fingers tingling, he felt like a knot had tangled in his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter as his heart pounded. His limbs felt like dead weight.

Chat started panting for an entirely unrelated reason to shortness of breath: there was a threat somewhere. He was dizzy and struggled to maintain his focus. Who was out there? Someone. Someone bad. But not too bad. But he and… someone else needed help. Ladybug. The love of his life.

He staggered forward, vision blackening around the edges. Before he realized what was happening, gentle hands gripped his shoulder and pressed an oxygen mask to his face. Chat gulped down life-giving air, his shoulders shuddering. He placed his hand over the mask, pressing it into his face.

Chat was inside that building for all of five minutes. Never before had he respected fire more. Ladybug had told him the last time he’d seen a big fire to let the professionals handle it. She’d been right, the job was too much for him to handle. But he didn’t want to even think of that toddler as a charred hunk of human. 

Then he realized, in a burst of clarity probably given to him by the oxygen, that he was useless to Ladybug like this.

And the akuma was still out there. 

Chat straightened from his lean. He was already feeling much better; the oxygen was clearing his head. The lack of focus only lasted as long as he couldn’t breathe. His vision cleared, and he saw a female paramedic standing in front of him, holding the oxygen tank his mask was hooked up to. 

“Are you all right, Chat Noir?” he heard her ask. 

Chat replaced the baton on his back and flashed her a thumbs up with his now freed hand. His eyes were still tearing up, and his vision was blurry from the fat drops. Some of the tears escaped his eyes only to roll down his mask and scorched, tingling cheeks.

“You saved that girl’s life.”

Another thumbs up. He didn’t try to speak. Not yet. He knew his voice would be wrecked. The paramedic smiled at him, seeming to understand.

Then he changed his mind, because he had to tell the firefighters about the akuma. Chat tried saying a word, but it came out in a guttural groan, and he ended up in another coughing fit.

The paramedic shifted on her feet. She adjusted the knob on the tank, increasing his oxygen levels.

Chat took a deep, deep breath, clearing his lungs of ash. “A-Akuma,” Chat rasped, his voice scraping across his raw throat. “Blue. Invisib--”

He was interrupted by someone slamming into his back, wrapping their arms around his middle.

Chat heard the paramedic shout his name as he slammed into the pavement, his face scraping across the asphalt. _Road rash,_ Chat thought dimly, before the agonizing pain set in. 

Chat pressed his clawed hands onto the street, shoving upwards with all his supersuit-enhanced strength. The superhero managed to roll over in the akuma’s frantic grip, and faced the man. 

The akuma was… very blue. His hair was blue. His teeth were blue. Even his eyes--including the sclera--were blue.

Chat didn’t have the headspace to think about the man being blue. The boy’s remaining oxygen was being crushed out of him in the akuma’s hold. Chat wriggled, freed his arm, and managed to slam his fist into the man’s cerulean nose.

 _His blood is blue, too,_ Chat thought dimly as it splattered on his mask. 

The akuma shrieked, jerking back from Chat and rolling off him. The boy scrambled to his feet, whipping his baton out from behind him. His vision blurred as he tried to track the man’s movements, but the akuma pressed a button on his remote and went invisible again.

Chat wasted precious breath on a curse. His feline senses were on high alert, and his shoulders were hunched around his ears. Gaze darting around, he prepared himself as best he could for the next attack. Scraped and blistered face stinging, he licked his cracked and bleeding lips. 

As the firefighters wrangled the blaze under control, the heat from the fire started to lessen, creating billowing smoke and steam. Visibility was bad; even the paramedics and firefighters were obscured in the smoke, and started to shout orders to each other.

Chat didn’t take his attention off the threat. The ambush could come from anywhere. 

His feline ears twitched at the familiar, comforting _ziiiiip_ ping sound of a yo-yo cable catching on a nearby rooftop. _Oh, thank goodness._ Despite the situation and the relief he felt about Ladybug’s arrival, a grin split Chat’s face.

She was carrying another holder in a brown suit with white paws. _Dog?_ Chat thought, seeing the fabric, canine-like ears nestled in the red hair of the new miraculous holder. She had a giant, plastic bone fastened to her back. _What a weird weapon._

Now that Ladybug was here, Chat relaxed fractionally. As the adrenaline started wearing off, he noticed that his elbow was sore. He figured he bumped it against the road when he punched the akuma.

Ladybug and the Dog holder ran up to him. “Oh, my gosh, your _face_!” Ladybug said, eyes widening as the Dog held back behind her. “What happened?”

“Who’s this?” Chat croaked, his voice not yet recovered from the smoke inhalation.

“Call me Woofster!” the Dog holder answered, cheerfully extending a hand. Chat shook it. 

“Lost the akuma somewhere.” Chat gestured out towards the smoke. He let loose a hacking cough into his fist, nearly doubled over. Then he straightened again. “Sorry.”

“Chat!” Ladybug declared, eyes flashing. “What did you do? Why are you injured? You didn’t go into the burning building, did you? Why would you _do_ that?”

Chat spat ash onto the ground. He pointed at Woofster. “Who is she?”

“Um, excuse me,” Woofster said, seemingly affronted. They both ignored her.

Ladybug pressed her lips together in a thin, white line. “The Dog holder will help. Let me use my Cure to fix your--”

“Not yet.” Chat wheezed. This was going nowhere, and she wasn’t answering his question. All the feelings of resentment for being kept in the dark, for not being let in on the secrets Ladybug and Fu held between each other flared to life in his spasming chest. She knew how important being informed was to him. He didn’t need to lead, but he did want the courtesy of being told the reasoning behind Ladybug’s decisions.

Chat wanted to shout. He wanted to scream. But he only had enough breath for short sentences as it was. “Who’s the new holder?”

“Excuse me,” Woofster tried again.

Ladybug stepped into his space, fists clenched near her face. “Let me fix you!” 

“Not yet!” Chat seethed, leaning forward, looming over Ladybug. His chest hurt. He could barely speak, but he wanted answers. “Who is she?”

“ _Excuse me_!” Woofster shouted, stepping in between them and waving her hands.

Chat and Ladybug both snapped their gazes to her. “What?” they said in unison.

“The akuma has been attacking people!” Woofster explained, pointing into the smoke. One of the paramedics screamed.

"Oh." Chat deflated, feeling guilt rush over him. How could he have forgotten about the akuma? He tried to speak again, to apologize, but a coughing fit seized his lungs.

“Woofster.” Ladybug straightened her shoulders, morphing into the consummate professional he knew her to be. “Can you get a bead on the akuma? Your Track power will allow you to teleport to him as many times as you need for the span of five minutes.”

“Neat trick,” Chat offered, still wheezing. Ladybug shot him a glare.

“I can do that.” Woofster nodded, shielding her eyes with a hand and peering into the billowing steam. “But what do I do once I’ve got a lock on him?”

“That’s what my Lucky Charm is for, I’m sure,” Ladybug explained, and threw her yo-yo into the air. “Lucky Charm!”

A bottle of honey fell into Ladybug’s outstretched hands. She beamed. “Excellent!” she said, and handed the bottle to Woofster. “Can you cover him in this?” 

Woofster nodded, uncapping the bottle. “Can do, Ladybug!”

Ladybug’s gaze flicked to Chat. “Once we have a bead on where he is, I’ll lasso him. Can you Cataclysm the remote?”

Chat rubbed at his breastbone. His ribs felt like they were going to collapse in on themselves. He couldn’t speak, so he offered Ladybug a thumbs up. 

Woofster and Ladybug darted forward towards the professionals, where the akuma appeared to be. Chat followed, fingers gripping his baton as dizziness struck him again. He almost lost sight of the two heroes in the haze of ashes blowing through the air. 

“Track!” Woofster called, having seemingly spotted the akuma. She flickered out of place with a _pop_ ping sound, appearing a few feet away. She squirted honey at him, but the akuma pressed a button on his remote and disappeared. 

Apparently he’d tried to run away, but Woofster-- _pop!_ \--teleported to his location again. She waved her hand in front of her, and struck him, making him appear. Then she started covering him in the honey. 

This was turning out to be hilarious. Chat cackled, which turned into a coughing fit.

Cornered, the akuma shrieked and ran. Woofster teleported to him, boxing him in near the building. Chat saw his opening. So did Ladybug, apparently; they closed in on the akuma together. Ladybug lassoed his feet, pulling them out from under him and knocking him over. 

Snatching the remote as the akuma fell, Chat opened his mouth to call for his power. 

But nothing came out. 

He choked, but not on ashes. He couldn’t call for his Cataclysm. Terror overwhelmed him as he stared at the remote in his right hand. He began panting and coughing, his vision tunneling to black.

“Chat!” Ladybug screamed, and his vision returned only to narrow on her. “What are you doing?”

Chat’s hands trembled around the remote and his stick. He felt faint. If he couldn’t even call Cataclysm, what good was he?

“Woofster!” Ladybug called as the akuma struggled against his bonds. “Bring me the remote!”

Woofster cautiously approached Chat, and he shied away. _No_! his mind shrieked. _Don’t come close to me! I’ll lose control!_

The new hero delicately plucked the remote out of his grip and brought it to Ladybug. She let go of her yo-yo to take it and snapped the electronic in half. 

Ladybug picked up her yo-yo again. She deevilized the purple butterfly, and threw the empty bottle of honey into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Her tiny helpers flooded the area. Gone was the smoke. Gone was the damage to the apartment building. Gone were Chat’s injuries.

Gone was the crushing pain in his chest and the dizziness. He inhaled a great gulp of air, relieved to have functioning lungs again. They’d won. And Woofster had helped. He could worry about his not being able to cast Cataclysm later. “Pound it!” he cheered, holding out a fist. 

Woofster smiled and brushed her knuckles against his shyly, but Ladybug had already turned away to comfort the akumatized victim. From the set of her shoulders and the tenseness in her jaw, Chat realized she was pissed. He hoped her anger wasn’t directed at him, but he didn’t know what else could have set her off. 

“Good job, Woofster,” Chat congratulated, patting her on the shoulder. “You were a great help to the team today.”

“Thanks,” Woofster said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’ve always wanted to be a hero! But why were you and Ladybug so mad at each other before?”

Chat winked. “Growing pains. I know it’s tough when Mom and Dad are fighting, but we’ll kiss and make up.”

Woofster goggled at him. “So you’re… You’re actually dating?”

Chat grimaced. “Not literally kiss and make up,” he lied smoothly. “I wish we were, but that’s just not in the cards right now.”

Woofster’s lips formed a tiny ‘o.’ Ladybug returned to them. “The firefighters will take the victim home. All three of us have got to bug out,” she explained, and then snarled at Chat. “You’re in trouble. Meet me afterwards. You know where.”

Chat’s feline ears flattened against his head. “Will do.”

Then she smiled at Woofster. “Thanks for your help. I’ll need to collect the miraculous, but not in public,” Ladybug continue. “Can I please carry you away from here?”

Woofster beamed. “Of course, Ladybug. See you, Chat.”

“See you,” he bid farewell, lifting a hand in a wave. 

Ladybug wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist and bugged out.

Chat took the shortest route possible back to the bakery. His transformation wore off just as he landed on the balcony. He caught an exhausted Plagg in his hands. Transferring him to one hand, Adrien reached into his pocket for a wedge of cheese. “Thanks, Kid,” the kwami croaked.

“Plagg,” Adrien questioned, frowning. “What do I do? Ladybug--Marientte--is mad at me.”

“You suck it up and take your lumps,” Plagg advised, snarfing down the cheese in one gulp. “More cheese.”

Adrien offered him a second wedge. He would run out if he wasn’t careful; he only had three total. “But why is she so mad?”

Plagg stared at him incredulously. “Are you serious, Adrien?” the kwami asked, and sighed when Adrien gave him a blank look. “First, you were injured. That scares the crap out of her. Secondly, you were arguing with her about stupid stuff. Thirdly, you both were so focused on the stupid argument, you lost the akuma.”

Adrien ducked. “Oh. I guess I was a little foolish.”

“A little?” Plagg snorted.

“Okay, a lot foolish,” Adrien agreed, rubbing the back of his head. 

Plagg took a giant bite out of the second wedge of camembert, chewed noisily, and swallowed. “You deserve a tongue lashing. So just take it, and don’t fight, and apologize.”

“You mean a second one?” Adrien quipped, a small grin creeping its way onto his face. 

Plagg rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t me chastising you. That was me giving you advice.” Plagg chomped on his cheese again. “I suggest you take it.”

“Thanks, Plagg,” Adrien said and settled in Marinette’s balcony chair to wait for her.

He was glad the day was Sunday; at least they didn’t have school to be concerned about. And his father didn’t want to see him, so he had the day off, sort of. He was supposed to be practicing piano sometime today, after all. 

She arrived a few minutes after he’d started waiting, short enough that Adrien couldn’t fall asleep, but not soon enough for him to not worry. He had stewed in his fears, feeling a rush of post-battle adrenaline. By the time she landed on the balcony, he’d been up and down, sitting in the chair and bouncing back up to pace, and back to sitting again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

“Adrien,” Ladybug said coolly. “We need to Talk.”

Adrien gulped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Marinette and Adrien Talk, and he figures out something very important.

"Adrien," Ladybug said coolly. She'd just landed on her balcony after they'd fought an akuma that could turn invisible at will. The man had set a raging fire at an apartment complex, and Chat had been burned saving a young girl on the third floor--which is only part of what he suspected Marinette was pissed about. "We need to Talk."

Adrien gulped. Plagg sat on his shoulder, offering silent support. In addition to inhaling smoke and getting himself injured in the blaze, Chat had also insisted that Ladybug tell him the identity of the Dog holder. Ladybug had brought the new holder into the fight because Tikki--through the Lucky Charm--had told her to. 

Adrien knew they could use the help, so he was relieved when Ladybug overcame her momentary panic to go retrieve the Dog miraculous from the Miracle Box. She had left him to find the akuma again, and he found the man at the burning building, picking on firefighters.

Ladybug and the mysterious Dog holder wrapped up the fight, and Ladybug had told him to meet her there at the bakery, presumably so she could yell at him. 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, following Ladybug into her room through the skylight. She descended her stairs to stand on the floor below her bed, and called off her transformation. Tikki landed in Marienette’s outstretched hands, eyes half-closed. Seemingly ignoring Adrien walking down the stairs, Marinette crossed to Tikki’s cabinet and retrieved a pink macaron for her.

As Tikki munched on the cookie, Marinette turned to Adrien. “You have cheese for Plagg, right?”

Plagg phased out of Adrien’s shirt. “He’d better. You’re always looking out for me, Marinette,” the Black Cat kwami cooed, giving her a toothy grin. “Unlike _some_ people.”

“Hey!” Adrien snapped, pulling a thick wedge of camembert out of his pocket. “I look out for you.”

Marinette smiled a little--a good sign, Adrien thought. Plagg snarfed down the cheese directly from Adrien’s fingers in one greedy gulp. Adrien pulled his hand back, glad that Plagg hadn’t bitten him. “Be careful, Plagg.”

"Is there more?" Plagg begged, moving his hands back and forth in a ‘gimmie' motion. "I'm starving!"

"You're such a glutton, Plagg," Adrien huffed, retrieving the last wedge of cheese from his pocket. Plagg stole the stinky food from Adrien's hand and chomped on it.

"Now that that's settled," Marinette murmured, her smile fading as she turned to Adrien, "you're in trouble."

Adrien ducked his head. He hated being in trouble. He worked very hard to avoid trouble. Trouble was awful; disappointing people was anathema to him. He couldn't meet Marinette's eyes. "I-I know."

Finished with their snacks, Plagg and Tikki phased into Tikki's cabinet, but not before Tikki nuzzled her holder's cheek. "Be gentle with him, Marinette."

Marinette didn't respond to her kwami. Adrien felt his girlfriend’s angry gaze on him and shivered. He glanced down at her chest, where the Eiffel Tower pendant nestled between her breasts. She was also wearing the cherry blossom ring, which showed him that she still loved him. So he wasn’t _too_ worried.

He still gulped.

“First,” Marinette started, and the boy flinched as she poked him in the chest, “you were really being stupid about the Dog holder’s identity. Why the heck did you demand to know who she was--and _in public_? Did you really think the middle of the battle was a good time for that?”

Adrien winced. “No, but… I, uh, I was tired of all the secrets,” he said, licking his lips. “And I figured, well, now that you’re the Guardian now, you could decide for yourself whether to keep me in the dark or not.”

Marinette blew air out of her nose and squished his stubbly cheeks in her hands. “You dumb cat,” she mumbled, and Adrien frowned down at her. He opened his mouth to object--but on what grounds, he didn’t know, because he really was being dumb. “She’s Sabrina Raincomprix. I was always going to tell you her identity.”

“You were?” Adrien stammered through his squished lips. He shook his head rapidly, and she released him. “I… I’m sorry, Marinette. I thought that you’d…”

“That I’d what?” Marinette huffed, popping her hands onto her hips. He couldn’t tell if she was actually offended at him, but her brow was furrowed and her nose was scrunched. She looked… cute. Angry, but cute. “Keep you in the dark like Master Fu?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his head. “Oh. Yeah. I was expecting that.”

Marinette sighed explosively. “Good grief, Adrien. You should know me better than that.”

Adrien pursed his lips. “You kept our identities secret. And there are other things you’re keeping from me. Like why you had that panic attack on the night I was almost akumatized.”

Marinette blanched. Her lip quivered. Then she seemed to rally, color flooding back into her cheeks. She poked him in the chest again, this time half-heartedly. “Haha, yeah, that,” she mumbled, and Adrien opened his mouth to push, and then shut it again when he realized what he was doing. If he pushed, she’d never tell him. “Anyway, I was under the impression that you’d already figured out all the holders?”

“No, I--” Adrien started, and then thought back. _Had_ he figured out who all the holders were? Chloé was obviously Queen Bee. And he knew Kagami was Ryuuko. And Max was Pegasus. And of course Luka was Viperion. But the others… 

Well, he’d figured out Nino was Carapace, because the other boy was detransformed and waiting for his miraculous when Chloé had controlled him as Miracle Queen. So if Nino was Carapace, then Alya being Rena Rouge made a lot of sense. But Adiren couldn’t fathom who King Monkey was. 

“Nino is probably Carapace,” Adrien said, tapping his chin. “Which makes Alya Rena Rogue. But who the heck is King Monkey?”

Marinette smiled at him--another good sign, Adrien thought. “Very good, Adrien,” she whispered, and he basked in the praise like a cat--or a Chat--curling up in a sun puddle. “Nino is Carapace, and Alya is Rena. King Monkey would be difficult for me to figure out, too, if Master Fu hadn’t told me. He was the one who gave Kim the monkey during the Party Crasher akuma.”

“Ah,” Adrien said, nodding. “I guess that makes sense. But why wouldn’t Master Fu have told me?”

“I have no idea.” Marinette heaved a sigh. “I disagreed with that decision, and he still made it. I’m sorry he kept you in the dark, Adrien. I know that must have been very frustrating to you.”

Adrien kissed her cheek. “Thank you for advocating for me, even if it didn’t work,” he said, smiling down at her. “Master Fu did tell me some things. He told me all about the power-ups for Plagg and Tikki. I still have those cheeses you gave me, minus the water power up I used during Miracle Queen’s siege on the city.”

“What else did he tell you?” Marinette asked, her lips twisting.

“That Ladybug was to be the Guardian, and I was supposed to support her,” Adrien reported, rubbing his chin. “And not much else.”

Marinette furrowed her brow. “That’s it?” she said, and Adrien nodded. “That’s terrible.”

Adrien laughed. “Right?”

“He told me that he’d translated the grimoire, but not much else,” Marinette huffed. Adrien again thought she was cute. “I figured out that the ingredient ‘tear of joy’ was literally a tear from a happy person, and he said that a lot of the recipes require those.”

“The grimoire?” Adrien said, feeling blind and stupid. What was he missing? “What grimoire?”

“Oh, uh,” Marinette said, shifting on her feet and looking away. “Your… dad had a thick book. About miraculous holders. And when Lila dumped the tome in the trash, I took it, because Tikki said it was important for miraculous stuff.”

“ _You_ took my dad’s book?” Adrien worked his mouth. 

“After Lila did!” Marinette protested, wincing. “But the grimoire held lots of recipes--recipes for power-ups that we eventually needed.”

Adrien blinked at her. “My dad told me that I didn’t actually lose the book. I didn’t know that was because someone had stolen it.” Then the penny dropped. “You… returned it?”

“Yeah.” Marinette biti her lip. Adrien immediately smoothed his thumb over it, so she’d release her spongy flesh from the grip of her teeth. “So that you could go back to school.”

Adrien’s smile was a small thing, peeking out like a sunbeam streaming from behind a cloud. “That was kind of you. Do you have a copy of the translation?”

“I do on my computer,” Marinette confirmed, and held her head in her hands. “But I don’t have Master Fu’s notes, so I can’t make any of the recipes. His tablet was stolen from him during Chloé’s siege on the city as Miracle Queen. I presume Hawkmoth got a hold of it somehow.”

Adrien groaned. “That’s terrible. So he has translations, too, and Master Fu’s notes. Are we going to be facing powered-up akumas? I don’t know if we can handle that.”

Marinette looked up at him, desperation leaking from her eyes as tears. “I know. I’m really worried about that,” she sniffed, dashing her tears away with the back of her wrist. Adrien’s heart went out to her. “I’ll need to start finding more holders and doling out more miraculous.”

Adrien cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead. “You’re not alone, Bug. I’m here with you. You don’t have to take on the entire Guardianship by yourself.”

She offered him a watery smile, her hand coming up to cover his hand on her cheek. “Thank you, Kitty. We should pick out new holders. Together.”

Adrien leaned over and sucked on her earlobe. She gasped. “I’d like that,” he whispered into her ear. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Adrien,” she whined, smacking his chest with a closed fist. “You’re so distracting.”

Adrien pulled back to beam at her. “Can you blame me? I have the most competent partner any cat could ask for. You kick butt and take names, Marinette. It’s ridiculously attractive.”

Marinette laughed. “ _That’s_ what you find attractive?”

“Of course,” Adrien affirmed, smoothing his hand over her hair. “Confident women are great.”

“What about my face?”

“You have a very pretty face.”

The gleam in Marinette’s eye was entirely too wicked. “And the rest of me? My boobs?”

Adrien choked. Heat flooded his face as he tried to keep his eyes on hers. He was decidedly _not_ looking at her Eiffel Tower pendant, or the boobs that it nestled in. “Those are just perks.”

Marinette threw her head back and cackled. The laugh was ugly, including snorts, but Adrien reveled in it. Ladybug had never laughed at his puns--except when he was Aspik, for some reason--and he lived for the ability to make her laugh. 

She had tear tracks drying on her face, but still, she laughed. Adrien chuckled as well. "The pun wasn't that funny."

"It was very well-timed," she insisted, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Adrien."

Adrien beamed down at her, but his smile faded when hers did. “Adrien,” she said, her bluebell eyes lined with worry. “Why couldn’t you Cataclysm the remote?”

Adrien looked over her shoulder at her desk. “I, uh…” He didn’t want to admit that he’d failed. He didn’t want to admit that he was a menace that could hurt her. 

He definitely didn’t want to admit that he’d been having nightmares.

“I choked,” he whispered, forcing the words out. He couldn’t do more than whisper; any louder and he’d be admitting the failure for real. “I’m… I’m too dangerous to entrust with this power.”

Marinette cupped his cheek, guiding him to look her in the eye. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to use it.”

Adrien’s chest cleared of its weight. It was almost as if he’d been suffocating on ashes again and Ladybug’s miraculous helpers had cured him once more. 

He beamed down at her. "Thanks, Marinette.” He sniffed. “That means a lot to me.”

“Adrien...”

Adrien didn’t want to dwell on his lack of control. He could still smell Lila’s remains. So he changed the topic. “We should still pick new holders. Sabrina as the Dog seemed like it worked out." 

Marinette's expression became guarded, intense. Adrien knew he was looking at Ladybug in that moment, who was considering her options. “Yes, it did,” she confirmed, furrowing her brow. “Sabrina worked out in a pinch. But we really need to branch out to people other than those of our class.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said, drawing a cold breath through his nose. “Hawkmoth has probably already figured out they’re all kids about the same age, so it would make sense to him that we are, too. And he already knows most of the holders, now that Miracle Queen has revealed them.”

Marinette sucked a breath over her teeth. “Do you think he’ll start targeting them?”

Adrien considered this. “He doesn’t know where they live. Chloé probably told him their names, though, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to do an internet search.”

Marinette groaned. The sound was a piteous groan, one that indicated to Adrien that he wasn’t going to be able to console her for a while. She was right to be worried. “What if… We need to bring him down, Chat. We need to figure out who he is and take him out, before he starts hunting down our friends and families.”

 _Hawkmoth would have a trial cornering my father._ Adrien was amused at the thought of Hawkmoth hunting Gabriel down. The emotion was sudden, intrusive and nasty, and Adrien mentally recoiled at it. He hated himself in that moment. 

_My father can defend himself. Can’t he?_ Adrien thought, momentarily horrified. _Doesn’t Nathalie know martial arts? But… oh, gosh, what can she do against a miraculous holder?_

“Yes, we need to find him. Immediately.” Adrien removed his hand from her cheek to look at his fingers. They’d started trembling. Marinette, seeing this, took his hands in her own and started massaging them, like he’d so often done for her after she’d spent the evening designing. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to our family.”

Our. Adrien hadn’t used that word intentionally, but the term fit. Tom and Sabine were as much Chat’s family as Marinette was. He hoped they felt the same way, but he couldn’t be sure, even after they’d invited him over every Monday to play board games for months.

Adrien exhaled noisily. He rubbed at his chest, feeling a knot behind his breastbone. "How are you going to find new holders from random people?"

Marinette flinched. She looked away. "I… I don't know. Maybe I could do a poll on the Ladyblog? 'Do you want to be a hero? Apply today!'"

Adrien snorted, amused again, but appropriately so, despite the grim humor. "Yeah, no. How about we just concentrate on finding Hawkmoth so that this is all a moot point?"

"Good idea," Marinette grumbled, and Adrien wondered why. "But if you have any ideas on how to find him, I'm all ears."

Adrien's stomach twisted at the thought of Hawkmoth pinning Sabine to the floor with his miraculous-enhanced super strength. "Yeah," Adrien said, the corners of his lips tugging downward. "Hey! I have an idea. Not about Hawkmoth, but about other holders."

Marinette perked up. "Oh?"

“Why don’t we give them to friends of friends?” Adrien offered, his breathing coming easier as the knot in his chest loosened. “Luka should have friends outside of his sister’s classmates. He clearly has a social life, right?”

Marientte beamed at him. “That’s a great idea, Adrien!” Adrien delighted in her expression and mentally patted himself on the back.

"Plus, Alix was Bunnyx in the future, right?" Adrien said, growing more and more excited by the minute. "So we can give her the bunny miraculous for sure." 

Marinette's eyes lit up. "That's true!" But then she wilted again. "But that's square one. We're supposed to be forming a team."

Adrien patted her cheek. "All in good time, Bugaboo. We have to start somewhere," he said, smiling down at her. "And if the adult Bunnyx ever comes back, we can ask her who else is on our team."

"She probably won't tell us." Marinette wrinkled her nose. "She probably knows Hawkmoth's identity, but she wouldn't tell me. Said I'd picked her because she knew how to keep secrets." Marinette scoffed. "I hate time travel. Parallel universes are awful to think about."

"They really are," Adrien agreed, but something was bothering him. "Hey, Marinette?"

"Yeah?" She looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent. 

“When did Bunnyx tell you that?” Adrien asked, narrowing his own. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers and fear licked at their edges. Adrien immediately gripped her arms--gently, but still firmly--so she wouldn’t bolt. His next words came out in a strained whisper. “When did you see Bunnyx again, Marinette?”

She struggled in his grip, letting loose a wordless cry. He released her immediately, and she skittered backwards. “I-I didn’t!”

Adrien resisted the urge to advance on her. She was clearly threatened by something, and he didn’t want to make it worse. “The cat’s out of the bag, little mouse,” he said, trying for a teasing tone. His voice still fell flat. “But that’s all right. You can tell me.”

“N-No,” Marinette stammered, covering her pale face with her hands. She started panting, and Adrien realized quite quickly that she was edging towards a panic attack.

“It’s something awful, isn’t it?” Adrien picked his way over to her and carefully laid a hand on her shoulder. He hoped his presence would ground her enough to tell him what was wrong. “Please, Marinette. You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t--I can’t--Just leave, Adrien!” she demanded, pointing to her skylight. “Transform and leave!” 

“Marinette…”

“I want you to leave,” she gritted out, staring at the floor. Tears dripped onto the hardwood. “You’ve… You’ve upset me!”

Adrien jerked back as if slapped. A gasp dropped from his lips, and his eyes burned. His chest felt like caving in. His unintentional reaction to her demand was to clench his fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms. He wanted to hit himself. But he'd never scare Marinette by doing that in front of her.

“Okay,” he agreed, his voice thready to his own ears. “I’ll leave.” 

He called for Plagg, who phased out of the cabinet. “I’m here if you need me, Kid,” the kwami offered, his flipper alighting on Adrien’s cheek.

Adrien turned his teary eyes to his friend, catching Marinette’s flinch out of the corner of his eye. “Claws out.”

Adrien didn’t bother going through the motions of his transformation. He simply allowed the transformation light to wash over his body, covering him in magical leather. His head felt heavy with the cat ears and mask, and he didn’t bother to raise it to take a last glance at Marinette, peeking at her from under his tear-dewed lashes. His eyes stung, and his nose was starting to be blocked with snot.

“I’ll leave.” He stalked over to her. She flinched again, but stood her ground. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “But I’ll be back.”

She sniffled, cupping his cheek. “Good.”

He couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. He bolted out of the skylight.

Sailing across the city with his baton, Chat bit his lip to keep from full-on sobbing. He vaulted over to the Eiffel Tower and challenged himself to beat his previous time to the top. He did, but the victory was short-lived and did nothing to make him feel better. He let out a ragged cry and sank down to his butt on the metal girder, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. 

He bonked his head into his bony knees. And again. And again, giving himself a headache. 

Marinette had cut him today, cut him deep. He’d thought they were past her stonewalling him, refusing to tell him anything. Wasn’t today supposed to be all about her telling him her secrets? What was so terrible that she couldn’t bear to tell him, and panicked every time he danced too close to the topic?

Was it his fault? Did he push her? Was his resentment at being kept in the dark too obvious? _But on the other hand,_ Chat thought bitterly, wiping his snotty nose on the back of his wrist, _why am I not allowed to know these things about my girlfriend, my partner?_

She’d been keeping secrets--this secret, he presumed--from him for a long, long time. And it had something to do with Bunnyx, and time travel. The adult Alix had clearly visited Marinette sometime after she’d battled Time Tagger. And Marinette’s upset clearly had something to do with parallel universes, and with him.

 _Something happened to me_ , Chat reasoned, lifting his head. The city bustled about at the lunchtime hour, but Chat wasn’t hungry. _Something she can’t handle. Something… Something bad._

He thought back to when she first started keeping secrets from him. When her behavior turned inexplicable. When he’d first started feeling lost around her.

When she’d had her first panic attack in his presence.

“The akuma,” he said aloud, wonder coloring his voice. “I was akumatized.”

Chat’s stomach bottomed out. That made too much sense. He wondered what had pushed him over the edge, had made his emotions raw enough to succumb to Hawkmoth’s control. 

And Bunnyx had forced her to fix the problem. Had come back in time, just to retrieve the young Marinette, because the future had been in danger.

Chat realized, slowly, that Marinette had had to fight him. A powered-up him, capable of whatever powers Hawkmoth had given him in addition to his own.

“Oh, oh gosh, little mouse, no,” Chat whispered, catching his tears on his claws. “No wonder you’re traumatized. No wonder.”

And he couldn’t help her. Not until she would let him in.

Frustration seizing his throat, Chat screamed into the void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Someone is grabbed in this chapter.

“Father,” Adrien mumbled, shifting his school bag on his shoulder. He’d prepared for this moment for most of the night before, having been completely unable to sleep after realizing that Marinette had fought him while akumatized. 

In the wee hours of the morning, Adrien had decided to focus on what he could control: setting boundaries with his father. The boy had thought and thought and thought about the homework Dr. Pemberley had given him to establish a boundary with his father, and had decided on Gabriel allowing him to walk to school.

Adrien wished he could wear his wristbands in public. Those would have given him some courage. And his lucky socks, which he’d ruined in the wash. But he did have Marinette’s journal of affirmations in his book bag. That was something.

“Yes, son?” Gabriel said, not looking up from his monitors in his atelier.

“I am walking to school today,” Adrien asserted, his words coming out in a rush. If he stopped, he’d lose his nerve. “I want the freedom to go places unaccompanied. Nathalie and my bodyguard will stay here."

"No." Gabriel didn’t even bother to look at Adrien as the man refuted the statements.

Dr. Pemberley’s words from the second therapy session they’d had trickled back to Adrien. _To set a boundary, first consider your approach._ She’d told him to use I statements to keep his father from being defensive when Adrien asserted his needs. 

“When you tell me my needs aren’t important,” Adrien whispered, swallowing, “I feel powerless.”

Gabriel still didn’t look at Adrien. The boy was almost glad; he didn’t know if he could stand to say what he needed to say if his father was pinning him with his cold stare. “I don’t make you feel powerless. I’ve had enough of your requests for the day.”

"This isn't a request," Adrien declared, straightening his spine. "I will be walking to school today." _Next, set consequences to violating the boundary._ "If you refuse, I will stop speaking to you." 

Gabriel's eyes snapped to his son's. "What was that?" 

"If you refuse," Adrien repeated, "I will stop speaking to you."

"You can't be serious," his father growled, his brow furrowing. "No, you cannot walk to school. Stop being ridiculous, Adrien."

 _Third, don’t take his reaction personally._ Adrien knew his father would push back. Adrien fully expected that the boundaries he'd try to establish would be crossed. 

He didn't expect it to feel so awful. A pit opened up in his stomach. Nausea punched him in the throat. His chest was tight, and he couldn't get enough air. _Fourth, learn to recognize the signs of a crossed boundary in your body._

 _Fifth, please remember that ‘No’ is a complete sentence._. “No,” Adrien stated, and turned to leave. He glanced over his shoulder one last time. “I am going to stop speaking to you now. Have a good day, Father."

"Adrien!" 

Gabriel left the monitors and stalked over to his son. Adrien ignored him, pushing through the door and walking as quickly as he could through the hallway.

"Adrien!" Gabriel bellowed, following him closely, his heeled shoes clicking on the tile work. "Stop! I command you to stop!"

Adrien entered the foyer, his breaths coming quick and painful. He bolted to the front door, but stopped right before it as Gabriel caught him, grasping the shoulder of his outer shirt in a tight fist. Adrien whipped his head around to stare at his father, eyes wide. 

But what Adrien saw shocked him.

Rather than being angry, like Adrien expected, Gabriel’s face was pinched with sadness and confusion. Gabriel’s lower lip trembled. His brow was furrowed, and his gaze was gentle despite the firm grasp on Adrien’s shirt. 

Adrien had never been so terrified in his life. He had no idea what his father would do with him now.

“Adrien,” his father whispered, his voice broken and soft. “Please.”

“Gabriel!” Nathalie shouted from behind them, and both man and boy turned to her as one. “Let him go.”

Adrien’s heart pounded in his throat. Gabriel hissed, his eyes going hard. “Nathalie--”

Nathalie snarled, her grip on her tablet bloodless and white. “Let. Him. Go.”

Gabriel’s jaw dropped. As soon as he released Adrien’s shirt, the boy jerked the doors open and fled, but not soon enough to not hear Nathalie yelling.

Adrien’s bag bounced against his hip as he sprinted, pumping his arms and legs as fast as they would go. He was blinded by stunned tears, his panic unlike anything he’d ever faced before. He ran at full-tilt all the way to the school, only slowing when he bounded up the steps of Dupont. 

Adrien burst through the doors and dodged students in the hallway. He somehow found his way to the locker room, and nearly slammed into his metal locker because he’d run out of room to run. Gasping and clutching at his heart, Adrien leaned against the locker.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe.

He could barely process the fact that his father had grabbed him. 

And the look in the man’s eyes! He’d been haunted by something Adrien couldn’t possibly guess at. Adrien sank to the ground, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, staring ahead at nothing and everything and still unseeing.

Clearly defying his father was the wrong thing to do. Maybe Adrien could go back and apologize, maybe Gabriel would forgive him if he went back to the house on his hands and knees--

“Dude,” Nino murmured, coming into focus in front of Adrien’s eyes. The other boy was kneeling down and gently holding Adrien’s shoulder, right where Gabriel had gripped him. Adrien swallowed his urge to recoil. “What happened?”

Adrien gulped down precious oxygen. “I-I stopped speaking to him.”

“To who?”

“Whom,” Adrien corrected absently, seizing on the rules of grammar as something steadying and familiar. Nino’s lips pressed together in a thin line. Adrien started babbling, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “To my father. I stopped--I stopped talking to him at all. I defied him, Nino! I set a boundary. I’m no longer speaking to him. He’s not gonna hear from me at all, because I’m not talking to him anymore, hahaha!”

Nino gave him a measured look. Then he drew a deep breath in through his nose, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled through his mouth.

Knowing that his friend was modeling deep breathing for him, Adrien sucked down a breath, and then another. Nino repeated his actions, and Adrien’s own frantic breathing slowed. By the time he’d calmed, he had a headache. He felt the cool metal of the locker pressing into his back.

Finally, Nino spoke gently. “I’d think that setting boundaries with your old man is a good thing,” he said, and Adrien sniffled, “except that you’re freaking out about it.” 

“Yeah,” Adrien mumbled, resting his head on the metal door. The other students he didn’t notice in the room before milled around, some giving strange looks at him. Nino ignored them all.

“Hey, man, setting boundaries is cool,” Nino affirmed, drawing Adrien into a firm hug. He trembled in his friend’s hold, and Nino’s hand came up to cup the back of Adrien’s head. “It’s hard, though, I know. Especially for you.”

The blond boy leaned his head on his friend’s shoulder and let loose a strangled sob as Nino continued talking. “But it’s necessary. You had to do this to grow. You can’t let your old man ruin your life all the time.”

“He g-grabbed me, Nino,” Adrien whispered into Nino’s shirt. 

“He what?”

“Grabbed me,” Adrien repeated, the words not coming any easier. 

Nino’s hand moved to Adrien’s shoulder, pulling him back to look Nino in the eye. “That is so not cool. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Adrien choked out, wiping his nose on the back of his wrist. “I don’t think he meant to hurt me. Just stop me. But… I’d never been so afraid.”

Nino embraced his friend again. “If he ever, _ever_ does that again, you come straight to my house, okay?”

Adrien snaked his arms around Nino’s back, clinging to him like the lifeline he was. “Okay.”

***

Chat landed on the balcony of Dr. Pemberley’s office with a rubbery thump and tapped on the sliding glass door. To her credit, she didn’t jump at his arrival, merely nodded from her seat, so he slid the door open and entered the room. 

“Hello, Chat Noir,” Dr. Pemberley greeted, tipping her head at the navy blue couch. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Chat stammered, his feline ears flattening. “I’m sorry I’m late. Hawkmoth threw two akumas during school today, so I barely made it here.” 

He paced in the office. Talking to Dr. Pemberley--an adult--as Chat, when she knew his identity, was strange to him. When she’d told him that she’d figured out his identity earlier, it didn’t feel real. But this… This made the reality of him giving away his identity crystal clear.

Chat was terrified that Ladybug was going to yo-yo into the room and smite him. He still needed to tell her that his identity was compromised--and possibly hers, too.

“I don’t mind that you’re late, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley assured, inclining her head. “You had a job to do. That’s perfectly understandable.”

Chat’s ring chirped. He was on his last paw print. He stopped pacing. “I’ll need to destransform to feed my kwami, if that’s okay?”

Adrien had never mentioned kwamis before, but Dr. Pemberley took the news in stride. “That’s perfectly fine. Do you have food for them?”

“His name is Plagg,” Chat confirmed, nodding. “And yes, I have food for him. Claws in.”

The green light flowed over his body, releasing both Adrien and Plagg. The kwami floated in front of Adrien, scoping out Dr. Pemberley. “This is your therapist?” The mini-god of destruction gave her a perfunctory wave, and then turned to his charge. “I’m staaaarving.”

Adrien grinned at the demanding black cat. “Give me a second to sit down, Plagg. I’ve got all the cheese you need.” 

Adrien caught Dr. Pemberley’s smile out of the corner of his eye, but then Plagg arrested his attention by hovering in front of his face. “You don’t move fast enough. Feed me cheeeese.”

The boy sat down on the couch and fished around in his pocket, retrieving a piece of camembert for the demanding kwami. Plagg seized upon the food immediately, devouring it straight from Adrien’s fingers in one massive bite. The boy knew the kwami wouldn’t bite him, but he still pulled his hand back as soon as Plagg was done.

Feeding Plagg made Adrien think of his New Stash. He was concerned about his giant jar of peanut butter. He’d looked up how long an unopened jar would last, and was reassured when the website had said six to twelve months. He’d had his New Stash since the beginning of February. It was Tuesday, October thirteenth, so he’d had the peanut butter for nine months. _Better replace that…_

Dr. Pemberley cleared her throat. “So, Adrien,” she started. “What brings you into my office today?”

Adrien opened his mouth to answer, but Plagg got there first. “His father put his hands on the kid.” 

The doctor’s eyes snapped to the kwami’s large, green ones. Then she turned her head to face Adrien. “Explain, please, Adrien?”

“I…” Adrien started, licking his lips. “I set a boundary. He reacted poorly.”

Dr. Pemberley’s lips twisted. “Do you want to talk about this, Adrien?”

“I do.” Adrien’s hands trembled in his lap despite his brave words. His next words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other to fill the empty space between them. “I told him I was walking to school. He said no. Then I told him I was going to stop talking to him. And I did. And then I walked away.” 

Adrien drew a shuddering breath. “He chased me down and grabbed me. Why would he do such a thing?”

Dr. Pemberley set her jaw tightly. “His reaction to your setting a boundary was extreme,” she stated. “And he had no right to lay his hands on you.”

“I’m scared,” Adrien said, his voice weak in his own ears. 

“I would be, too, if I were in your position,” Dr. Pemberley affirmed, spreading her fingers out on her yellow legal pad. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I didn’t foresee this. And as a mandatory reporter--”

“No!” Adrien looked up so sharply, he pulled a muscle in his neck. He still had a headache from panting before. “Dr. Pemberley, you _can’t_ report him. I can’t be taken away from him. He’s my only family.”

Plagg nuzzled Adrien’s cheek. “Not your only family, kid.”

Dr. Pemberley locked eyes with Adrien, her own brown ones hard and unflinching. He winced, and her gaze softened. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I have already reported your father for neglect,” she confirmed, and Adrien choked off a cry by biting his knuckles. “Likely nothing will happen from the subsequent report. I doubt he’ll even be charged. But grabbing someone, especially a minor, is considered assault and needs reported.” 

Adrien covered his face with his hands, unpending Plagg from his place on Adrien’s cheek. Tears leaked out from his fingers. “He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“He might have,” Plagg murmured, his voice soft and bitter.

“Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley said gently but firmly. “Please look at me?”

Adrien sniffled and lowered his hands. His eyes glazed over with tears.

“I know you’re quick to defend your father,” Dr. Pemberley began, and the boy’s heart sank. “Your loyalty is commendable. But you have always been quick to excuse or defend your abusers.”

Plagg snorted. “That’s the truth.”

“He’s not abusing me,” Adrien mumbled, his stomach bottoming out. 

“Neglect is a form of abuse,” Dr. Pemberley assured, offering him a tissue from the box. He took one and wiped his eyes. “So is assault. So is forcing a growing teenager to remain on a restrictive diet despite your not modeling anymore.”

“I never asked him to take me off of that,” Adrien said, his chest shuddering.

“Which still doesn’t give him an excuse to leave you on it, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley rested her chin in her hand. “Why hasn’t he taken you to see your nutritionist?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien stammered, directing his gaze to his feet. He set the tissue aside on the couch. “I… I never know what he’s going to do. That’s why I’m scared.”

Plagg leaned on Adrien’s collarbones. “Kid…” 

“Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley started, and he avoided her eyes despite her addressing him directly. “Listen. I am not trying to take your father away from you. That’s not my intent at all.”

“Okay.” Adrien shut down his knee-jerk reaction to shout and flail. He felt numb from the eyes down. “So what do I do?”

Dr. Pemberley leaned back. “You watch,” she confirmed. “And wait. And if he ever strikes you, then you report it to a trusted adult.” 

“Or I will do it for you,” Plagg snarled. “I’ll tell this therapist, okay? And Pigtails.”

Adrien slanted a look at his kwami. “Ma-- _Ladybug_ can’t do anything about my father.”

“But she’d want to help.” Plagg folded his flippers.

Dr. Pemberley tilted her head. “She would want to know, Adrien,” the doctor told him, “if just so she could emotionally support you.”

Adrien sighed and turned back to Dr. Pemberley. “Okay. He hits me. I report it. And then what happens?”

Dr. Pemberley drew a breath through her nose. “He’ll be carefully watched. And you’ll be able to leave his house when you turn eighteen. If not before then.”

Adrien laughed. He didn’t know why he was laughing, but the high-pitched sound had a hysterical edge to it. “Come on, Dr. Pemberley.” He waved a hand, knowing he was too flippant but struggling to care. “It’s not like he’s Hawkmoth or anything. As Chat, I have an actual supervillain to worry about.”

Plagg frowned deeply, but didn’t say anything.

Dr. Pemberley shook her head. “No,” she agreed. “But… While there’s a difference between mundane evil and supernatural evil, the mundane one is closer to home.”

Adrien sat back. He didn’t have anything to say about that. He felt ashamed of letting his inner Chat Noir show; he was being petty and dismissive, something he never did as Adrien. “Yeah. I guess,” he said, making the concession. “You don’t really think he’s evil, do you?”

“I do,” Plagg growled.

“I don’t,” Dr. Pemberley stated, making a note. “Like many people, your father is misguided. But that doesn’t make taking his abuse any easier for you.”

Adrien laced his fingers together and placed them against his lips. “Okay. So if he hits me or grabs me again, I report it. But what do I do until then?”

“Stay out of his way,” Dr. Pemberley instructed, clicking and unclicking her pen in agitation. “Don’t give him the time of day. Maintain your boundary of not speaking to him until he apologizes and agrees to let you walk to school by yourself.”

Adrien nodded, his headache returning with a vengeance. “I can do all that, yes. Do you really think he’ll apologize?”

“I’m not sure, actually.” Dr. Pemberley pursed her lips. “But he has a lot to apologize for.”

Plagg let loose a cackle which sounded like splintering wood. “I like her, Kid. Can we keep her?”

“Hopefully,” Adrien mumured, a small smile finding its way to his lips despite the situation. “I still have trouble recognizing that I’m being abused.”

Dr. Pemberley made a note. “Adrien...” She hesitated. She seemed to be mulling over her words, and Adrien gave her the space to do so. “You were very lucky that you didn’t have a heart attack when you started eating again.”

That startled Adrien into unfolding his arms. “W-What?”

Dr. Pemberely peered at him. “Have you heard of refeeding syndrome?” 

“No…” Adrien whispered, watching Plagg’s eyes widen.

“The process of reintroducing food into a body that is malnourished is called refeeding.” Dr. Pemberley rolled her pen between her fingers. “Refeeding syndrome is when the balance of electrolytes that cause you to metabolize food shift in a dangerous way.”

Adrien tilted his head. “And that leads to heart attacks?”

“Yes.” Dr. Pemberley tapped her pen on her pad again. “A lack of phosphate causes your heart to seize, among other symptoms: Fatigue, confusion, trouble breathing, eventual heart failure, coma, and death.”

“Kid,” Plagg whispered, his words breathy. “Is she serious?”

“She seems to be,” Adrien confirmed, feeling the words sink in like a weight on his chest. “But I didn’t… It wasn’t… I didn’t mean to starve.”

Dr. Pemberley’s gaze softened. “This is not a criticism of you, Adrien. You were dealing with a situation completely out of your control.”

Plagg nodded rapidly, and Adrien swallowed. The kwami answered for him. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s right.”

“But it is a criticism of your father,” Dr. Pemberley continued, and the weight dropped into Adrien’s empty belly. “Your starvation wasn’t intentional, but he should have noticed you losing muscle mass and lifted your diet restrictions.”

“He did increase my calories,” Adrien reported, trying not to make excuses for his father, but feeling like that point should be brought up. “He just didn’t account for what I was burning as Chat.”

Plagg exploded. “Stop making excuses for him, Adrien!” The boy flinched.

“He did not, but the effects of starvation on your body were clear,” Dr. Pemberley stated, her gaze sharp and direct. “And now there’s no rhyme nor reason for your having a restrictive diet now, except that M. Agreste likes to control you.”

Adrien flinched again. “He’s controlling me by telling me what to eat?”

“Absolutely he is,” Plagg growled. 

Dr. Pemberley made a note. “If your father thought you were bulimic and purging, he could justify controlling what you eat by saying you’re clearly not responsible for making your own decisions regarding food.”

Plagg looked mad enough to spit. “That sounds like him.”

Adrien ran a hand over his mouth. “Maybe. I don’t know, he doesn’t tell me much about his motivations.”

“I’m only guessing at them from what I see,” Dr. Pemberley said, setting her pen down. “But from what I see, he wants a tight grip on what you are and aren’t allowed to do. Since he can’t make you go to photoshoots anymore, controlling what you eat is a great way to do that.” 

“And since you live in his home,” Plagg snapped, “that’s something he can still monitor.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Pemberley agreed, inclining her head again. “M. Agreste is clinging to what he can control. That is why I believe he grabbed you. He thought he was losing control of the situation, and lashed out.”

Adiren drew a breath through his nose. “Which was wrong.”

“Of course it was!” Plagg gently bonked Adrien on the head with a flipper. Adrien barely felt it. “Why do you even need to confirm that?”

“Plagg,” Dr. Pemberley said, addressing the kwami for the first time. “Please do not hit Adrien.”

“Sorry, Kid.” Plagg hung his head.

Adrien cupped his hands in front of him, and the kwami floated down to land on the boy’s palms. “It’s okay, Plagg,” Adrien assured, trying for a smile and failing. “I know you’re just concerned.”

Plagg opened his mouth to say something but shut it again. He hovered up to sit on Adrien’s shoulder.

“Adrien.” Dr. Pemberley tilted her head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to further explore what happened with Lila Rossi.”

Adrien dragged a hand over his face. He leaned forward, his hands hanging between his knees. “Okay. I’m ready. How do you want to approach this?”

“First I want to have you recognize that her death, while unfortunate, was ultimately temporary,” Dr. Pemberley murmured, her voice quiet but unyielding. “While that doesn’t make killing her any less traumatic for you and any less traumatizing for her, Ladybug resurrected Mademoiselle Rossi. You don’t have to live with the wound of a lasting killing.”

“She’s right, Kid.” Plagg nodded rapidly. “I know you beat yourself up on the regular, but she’s still alive. You didn’t hurt her permanently.”

Adrien sagged back into the couch. “She still has to live in fear.”

Dr. Pemberley made a note. “Have either of you heard of the concept of moral injury?” 

Both boy and kwami shook their heads, so the therapist continued. “Moral injury refers to the guilt you feel after breaking your moral code. If you get PTSD from someone trying to hurt you, you get moral injury from hurting someone else, even accidentally.”

Plagg hissed. “So what does he do?”

Dr. Pemberley held up a hand. “There’s no one path to healing, Plagg. Adrien, you have a very strong moral code. You may think that you deserve to be hurt because you’ve hurt someone. That you deserve to die because she died--a life for a life. But I want to tell you that that’s not true.”

“What is true?” Adrien whispered, biting his lip. He didn’t know where Dr. Pemberely was going with this, but he felt called out. He did think he deserved to be hurt. He did think he deserved his nightmares.

“You are no more deserving of pain than anyone else,” Dr. Pemberley said succinctly. “You are utterly unique and part of a far greater whole. Do you think if Marinette had accidentally killed Mademoiselle Rossi, Marinette would deserve to pay for that death with her own life?”

“No!” Adrien cried, gasping. “Why would I think that?”

“The doctor has a point, Adrien.” Plagg rubbed his charge’s cheek with his flipper. “You deserve peace of mind just as much as any other person.”

“Plagg is right,” Dr. Pemberley confirmed, inclining her head. “All you have to do is accept his words as true.”

“I think,” Adrien began, crossing his arm over his chest and gripping his opposite elbow, “that I accept that I lost control of my Cataclysm. I touched her on accident. And that scares me more than if I’d killed her on purpose.”

“That’s interesting,” Dr. Pemberley said neutrally, making a note. “Why do you think that is?”

“Because,” Adrien whispered, scared to get the words out. His throat closed and his mouth went dry. He panted, his vision narrowing to a small slit. His heart pounded in his ears and a sense of dread overwhelmed him.

He forced his fears past his lips. “Because it could happen again. Akuma battles are fast-paced and chaotic. What if I k-kill Ladybug?”

Dr. Pemberley held out her hand. "Adrien, I can tell you that I honestly believe that that won't happen. But you're panicking right now--can we take a moment to ground you?"

Adrien swallowed bile. “Y-Yes. Please.”

“You’re safe, Kid,” Plagg murmured, nuzzling his cheek. 

“Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley stated, gently but firmly. “I want you to feel the floor under your feet. Place all your awareness at the bottom of your feet.”

Adrien sucked a breath over his teeth. He pushed his feet into the floor until he felt the wooden boards shoving up against them. The balls of his feet turned numb with the pressure.

But the technique worked within thirty seconds. His breathing slowed and his vision cleared. He smiled weakly at Dr. Pemberley. “Thanks.”

“We don’t know the future, Adrien, and we can’t predict it, but you are thinking of a very unlikely, worst-case scenario.” Dr. Pemberley returned his smile. “Ladybug is very capable, and her supersuit protects her.”

Plagg hovered in front of Adrien’s face. “And you’re still the best one to wield this power, Adrien. Someone has to and there’s no one more likely to ensure Pigtail’s safety than you.”

“I think--” An akuma alert sounded on Adrien’s phone. He winced and shut off the alarm. “Dr. Pemberley,” the boy said, frowning. “I’ve got to go take care of something. Do I have your permission to leave?”

“You never have to stay in a session, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley assured, making a note. “You are here by choice. Please go take care of Paris.”

“I’m ready, Kid,” Plagg said sullenly.

“Thanks.” Adrien nodded to both of them. “Plagg, claws out.”

Adrien didn’t bother going through the motions of his transformation this time. Transforming in front of Marinette was one thing, but he wasn’t ready to show off for Dr. Pemberley. Not yet.

Chat offered her a two-fingered salute. “Okay. See you.”

“Goodbye, Adrien.” Dr. Pemberley smiled gently at him. From her soft gaze and the crinkles around her lips, she looked… sad. Chat chose not to read into it. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Chat said, and bolted out the sliding glass door without shutting it behind him. 

***

Adrien didn’t know how he’d gotten to this point. He didn’t realize the effect his not speaking to his father would have on the man. But here they were, staring each other down past midnight in the Agreste manor’s kitchen on the day Gabriel had grabbed him, and Adrien was steadily cataloguing all of the ways his father looked run down.

“Son,” Gabriel whispered, seemingly unable to make up his mind about whether to be curt or cajoling. His hair was mussed, as was his ascot. He looked rumpled, as if he’d slept in his clothes. His eyes were red and puffy. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

Adrien said nothing. Guilt warred with panic in his brain; he drew a deep breath and silenced his rioting thoughts. _I don’t have to engage._ He crossed to the cabinet that held glasses, giving his father a wide berth, and opened the door. 

“Why won’t you speak to me?” Gabriel demanded, but stayed rooted to the spot near the walk-in fridge, his hands clenched around a small, orange prescription bottle. “I’m your father. I have rights.”

After retrieving a glass, Adrien filled it with water from the filtered pitcher near the sink. He took a deep, deep drink, and very gently set the glass down onto the counter. The clink of the glass on the granite thundered in his silence. 

“How dare you?” Gabriel snapped. He stepped towards Adrien, who stiffened, and then stopped. “I demand you speak to me.”

Adrien glanced at the door to the kitchen. _He won’t be able to catch me this time if I run quickly enough,_ the boy thought, calculating in his head just how fast he could move, bolting up to the relative safety of his room.

“Why won’t you speak to me, son?” Gabriel whispered brokenly, letting go of the orange prescription bottle to reach a shaking hand towards the boy. “Why are you shutting me out?”

Adrien’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. He knew he should say something, or at least shake his head. He had to communicate with his father somehow. _He asked me a direct question,_ Adrien thought, drawing a breath through his nose. _I need to answer._

But he didn’t this time. He merely turned away.

“Adrien,” Gabriel begged, his voice breaking. “Talk to me. Please.”

Adrien lifted his foot to take a step. 

He barely heard his father’s next words. “I’m sorry.”

Stunned, Adrien let his foot hover in the air for a moment before dropping it to the floor. He turned back to his father, eyeing him. He tipped his chin up, indicating that his father should continue.

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” Gabriel repeated, the words coming out as if jerked out of his mouth with pliers. He couldn’t seem to look his son in the eye. “I never should have grabbed you.”

Adrien nodded firmly, and Gabriel winced, continuing. “And you were right, you are old enough to walk to school without supervision.” He swallowed. “Now will you speak to me?”

“Yes,” Adrien agreed, his voice coming out in a breathy whisper. 

Gabriel’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you.”

Adrien wanted to shrug, but didn’t because that would be too casual a response for his father. “What’s in the pill bottle, Father?”

Gabriel’s eyes flicked down to the prescription bottle in his hand. “Sleeping medication. I’ve had trouble sleeping for two and a half years.”

 _Since Mother left,_ Adrien thought, and marveled at how bitter he sounded in his own head. “Do… Do you need them every night?” Adrien figured his father wouldn’t answer. The man was never forthcoming about himself or his struggles with his grief about Emilie.

Gabriel surprised Adrien. “Yes,” the man reported, and opened the bottle. He spilled one tiny, white pill out into his hand and set the bottle down on the counter. “I have to chop them in half because they knock me out so badly, I end up groggy until the evening of the next day if I take a full one.”

Adrien didn’t have anything to say to that. “Wow,” he forced out.

Gabriel turned to a drawer Adrien had never opened and retrieved a palm-sized contraption from it. “Pill splitter,” the man confirmed, holding up the plastic gadget. He popped the top open, and Adrien saw a small blade in the middle, placed away from the hinge.

“I… guess I’ll leave you to it.” Adrien shifted on his feet. He wondered if he should bow, or wave, or even hug the man. Gabriel didn’t have to share his secrets with his son. But while Adrien was absurdly grateful to be let into his father’s confidence, the fact that Gabriel had to take medication to sleep was shocking. Adrien didn’t know how he felt about that fact.

 _He’s not weak for it_ , Adrien decided, watching as Gabriel split the tiny pill in half. _Just because he needs pills to sleep doesn’t make him weak. I shouldn’t judge him._

The boy turned to walk away, but caught his father’s words. “Good night, Adrien.”

Adrien didn’t turn back. “Good night, Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Ladybug has a proposal for Chat.

“Does your skin feel burnt?” Chat asked Ladybug as a waiter set a dish of medium-rare steak topped with grilled mushrooms in front of him. Chat had ordered sides of mashed potatoes and green beans, and he was pleased to see that the meal was huge. Ladybug had ordered a grilled chicken salad, and had started tucking in as the waiter left. “Because I think you must have just fallen down from heaven, and re-entry would have caused some problems for you.”

Chat expected Ladybug to laugh, and maybe roll her eyes. He did not expect her to go rigid, a frown twisting her beautiful lips.

"You'd know more about burnt skin than I would, _Kitty_ ," she snapped, making him gulp, "given your recent experience of jumping into an apartment complex that happened to be _on fire_."

She was glaring fiercely at him. "I, uh," he said, pretending to tug at his collar, "didn't think you were still pissed about that."

Ladybug stabbed at a piece of grilled chicken with her fork. The Eiffel Tower pendant bounced against her chest with the movement. "Like I said, you did the right thing. You saved that little girl. But I don't have to be happy about you messing up your face and lungs while doing it."

“Uh,” Chat stammered, picking up his knife and fork. He set them down and took a long pull on his water instead. “That was not how I expected to start off lunch on a Wednesday, sorry.”

Ladybug shrugged. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt,” she confirmed, piercing a crouton with a crunch. “You know how special you are to me, Chat.”

Warmth filled Chat’s chest. “Thanks, Ladybug. You’re special to me, too.”

They fell into a companionable silence, eating together as if they’d always done so. The waiter approached Chat with a second serving and a phone, and he took a few pictures of his food and a selfie, tagging them #DinnerPawtrol.

“Can I take a picture of you, my Lady?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Ladybug huffed. “If you must.” She speared some more chicken on her second salad. “But don’t tag it as hashtag blessed again. People on the Ladyblog are having conniptions as it is.”

“They’re just jealous that I get to spend time with such a wonderful lady.” Chat chuckled, grinning unabashedly at her eyeroll.

“Uh-huh,” Ladybug said, pointing at him with her fork. “And shipping has nothing to do with it.”

Chat laughed, and snapped a picture of her, food halfway to her mouth. He quickly tagged it #beautiful, tapping away at the phone’s keyboard with his claws. “I don’t know, I think Ladynoir rolls off the tongue.”

“Ladynoir?” Ladybug murmured, tilting her head. She gave him a faraway look. “It really does.”

Chat’s heart pounded in his mouth. He handed the phone back to the waiter and leaned in. “My Lady?” 

“Hmm?” she hummed, lacing her fingers under her chin to look at him. 

“Please don’t tease me like that,” he whispered, his feline ears flattening.

Ladybug sighed. “I’m not,” she assured, shaking her head and making her hair ribbons bounce. “This… isn’t the place to discuss it, Kitty. But…”

“But?” Chat reached out to take her hand. 

A camera flashed. A paparazzi descended on them, and Chat hissed, letting her hand go. The waiter immediately booted the man out, but not before he shouted, “Chat Noir! Any comment?”

“No!” Chat growled, baring his teeth. The arrangement that he’d recently made with restaurants was that he and Ladybug would eat and give endorsements on Instagram in exchange for free meals and relative privacy. As private as eating in public and posting to social media was, anyway.

The Parisians treated their lunch dates as a game, trying to figure out where the superheroes were planning to eat and showing up there. Needless to say, any restaurant they chose would immediately be swamped as soon as Chat uploaded the photos. This one required reservations, so Chat had assumed they were safe from the prying eyes of the public.

He doggedly tore into his steak. Ladybug giggled at him. “What’s so funny, my Lady?” Seeing her smile, his bad mood dissipated as suddenly as it had bubbled up from his chest. He grinned back at her, popping a bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“You hissed like a wet cat.” Ladybug laughed, covering her mouth with a hand. “You were so… I don’t know. I’m just surprised at how catlike you can be sometimes.”

Chat preened, flexing. “I’m pleased you’ve noticed,” he boasted, earning another gorgeous laugh from her.

 _Worth it,_ Chat thought, watching her drink some water. _Totally worth it._

The next interruption was one that he couldn’t just hiss away: an akuma alert blared on his baton and her yo-yo. Thankfully, they’d finished their second helping of food, but they would be late going back to class. 

The two akumas--one thrown right after the other--took the rest of the day. Chat knew he’d have to retrieve his bag from the school before tomorrow, so he hoped that Monsieur Damocles hadn’t locked the doors yet. Adrien didn’t want to leave his journal of affirmations at the school all night. He wanted to read some of them and maybe do some writing or drawing.

“Chat,” Ladybug panted, just as he was about to vault off the rooftop near the Trocadero fountains to the school. He stopped, glancing over at her. “I do want to talk to you about… the shipping. Meet me at the bakery after we hit the school?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Chat agreed, throwing her a two-fingered salute.

Luckily for Adrien and Marinette, they were able to retrieve their bags and walk to her house. “So what’s this about shipping?” he whispered to her on the way. “I need to get home soon, so lay it on me.”

“Wait,” Marinette commanded, crossing the street to her parent’s bakery. He walked by her side, not wanting to take her hand, just in case someone was stalking them again and taking pictures to give to his father. “We should wait until we’re safely in my room.”

Adrien chomped at the bit to figure out what she meant, so he barely greeted Tom and Sabine, waving at them as he followed Marinette up the stairs to her room. As soon as he shut the trap door behind himself, he bounced on the balls of his feet, dropping his bag on the floor as she shed hers. “Well?”

“I think…” Marinette murmured, facing away from him. She glanced over her shoulder. “I think Ladybug and Chat should date.”

“My Lady,” Adrien whispered, his jaw dropping. “Do you mean it?”

She nodded, folding her arms around herself. Adrien crossed to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her cheeks and temples until she laughed at him. 

“Adrien!” she stammered, only for him to pick her up and swing her around. She giggled, and he set her down. “I didn’t realize this would make you so happy!”

He turned her in his hold, so she was facing him, and cupped her cheeks. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, wishing he could do so much more. “Of course I’m happy!” he affirmed, peppering her face with more kisses. “I’ve only wanted this for two years. What changed your mind?”

“Well,” she said, grinning up at him. Her smile faded, and her eyes took on the determined cast he’d come to associate with Ladybug. “He knows, Adrien. Hawkmoth knows we’re in love.”

Adrien frowned. He rubbed his thumbs over her cheekbones. “How do you know that?”

Marinette slanted a look at him. “I have a line to his secret lair,” she deadpanned, and Adrien cracked up. “No, really, I don’t know, I only suspect. But he’s been targeting me over and over, driving you to distraction. I can’t think of why he’d do that except that he knows.”

“And your response is to play into it?” Adrien furrowed his brow. “I don’t get it, little mouse.”

“No,” Marinette disagreed, glancing to their feet. She looked up at him, leaning into his hands. “But I just… don’t see why we couldn’t? I mean, if he knows, then there’s no point in hiding what everyone knows already, right?”

Adrien’s smile was slow to bloom, but it morphed into a full-on grin. “Really?” He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Really, really?”

“Really, really,” Marinette assured, and seized him by the collar, pulling him into a searing kiss that curled his toes. 

Adrien responded immediately, tilting his head and moving his hand to the back of her head. He glided his lips on hers, letting loose a quiet moan into her mouth when she parted her lips and let him in. She tasted of Italian salad dressing, and Adrien was ridiculously amused by that fact. 

Marinette stood up on her tiptoes, pressing her chest into his--including the Eiffel Tower pendant--and almost knocking him over. His knees felt weak, and he stumbled backwards into the chaise longue, but she followed, pressing kisses to his chin and lips. Falling back onto the reclining seat, he moved his hand to the small of her back, pulling her hips into his. He groaned as she placed her knee between his legs, squeezing his thigh between her own.

Her fingers roamed on his chest, slipping under his shirt to stroke his belly. He shuddered under her touch, panting and gasping into her mouth. Then he chuckled against her lips, and spoke words he regretted as soon as he said them. “Your hands are cold!”

Marinette cackled so hard, he thought she might end up with a cramp. She broke the kiss, resting her head on his collarbone, her freezing cold hands moving to squeeze his waist and tickle him. 

He squirmed under her questing fingers, giggling and wriggling and trying to get away even as he held her on top of him. He kicked his feet, arching his back and bumping his chest against hers.

Just as he was starting to wheeze from laughing, she stopped, moving her hands out of his shirt to rest on his shoulders. In their tussle, she’d straddled his hips, and that she was grinding on him short-circuited his pubescent brain. 

She shifted her body weight so that she was bearing down on him even further, and he groaned, his head dropping back onto the chair frame and his eyes fluttering closed. This had the unintentional effect of exposing his throat, so she went for it, kissing his neck.

He placed his shaking hands on her hips and squeezed, which only made her intensify her efforts, drawing her tongue from his collarbone to his chin. She bit him then, and closed her lips over the spot, sucking so hard a gasp was torn from his throat. 

She growled against his sensitized skin. “I won’t leave a mark.”

“O-Okay,” Adrien breathed, barely able to get the word out as she nipped at the column of his throat, traveling from his collarbone to his ears and back again. His chest heaved as he panted, and he let loose little wheezing moans that grew more and more high-pitched as she continued driving him wild. 

His exposed skin, now thoroughly wet, felt cool where she wasn’t dragging her hot tongue over it. The juxtaposition of the two temperatures pushed him to the edge of his self-control. 

Adrien wanted to return the favor, to tackle Marinette onto the chaise and pin her down with her arms held over her head. He wanted to plunge his tongue into her mouth, exploring the whole of her until she begged him for more. He wanted to beg her himself, to tell her all the ways she made him feel good and ask for even more. 

Marinette tugged his shirt off his shoulder and sucked on the junction of that and his neck. He waggled his feet, trying to focus on something--anything--other than the delirious pleasure he felt. 

It was almost too much. 

No, it was definitely too much.

“C-Croutons,” Adrien whimpered, and the delicious pressure of her mouth and hands left him immediately. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the light of her room. He focused on Marinette’s face, on her blown gaze and disheveled pigtails. 

His hands on her hips trembled, and he drew a few shuddering breaths. 

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked, smoothing her hand over his feverish-feeling forehead.

“Yeah,” he choked out, carefully coming down from the high that she’d given him. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just--the kissing and the licking and the sucking--it was too much. I was losing my mind.”

Marinette smirked. Thrilled with her being pleased with herself, he kissed her. The kiss was close-mouthed, chaste but heated. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave into his chasing her down. He cupped her cheeks and jawline in his hands, licking his lips to part hers--

His phone rang. The ringtone was Nathalie's.

Adrien broke the kiss with a groan. Marinette moved off him, sitting on the chaise so he could dig his phone out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"Adrien, where are you?" Nathalie snapped, her usually-impassive voice tinged with worry and no small amount of annoyance.

“I was helping people out after the akuma attacks,” Adrien lied easily. “I’m sorry, Nathalie. I’ll be home soon.”

Marinette covered her smile with her hand.

“You know your father doesn’t want you anywhere near akuma battles, Adrien,” Nathalie murmured, the barest of reproaches in her tone. “Where are you now? I’ll send the sedan.”

“No,” Adrien disagreed, shaking his head despite knowing Nathalie couldn’t see him. “I’m within walking distance now, so I’ll just walk back to the house.”

Marinette gave him a thumbs up.

Nathalie was quiet for a few moments. She let loose a rattling cough that alarmed Adrien but seemed to recover quickly. “All right. I expect you home shortly,” she rasped. “Don’t make me call you again.”

“Thanks, Nathalie.” Adrien thanked her, letting his gratitude for her seep into his voice. He’d never thanked her for defending him against his father earlier, nor for choosing him so many times before that. “See you soon.”

Adrien hung up and pocketed his phone. Marinette squeezed his shoulder. “Guess you have to go, huh?” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah,” Adrien confirmed, running his fingers through one of her pigtails. “I’ll miss you, little mouse.”

Marinette giggled. “You’ll see me tonight for patrol,” she reminded him, and then blinked at him. “Right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Adrien skipped on the way to his house, his heart light. His bag bounced against his hip. “Plagg!” the boy cheered, peeking into his pocket. “Marinette wants to date! As Ladybug and Chat!”

“I heard, Kid,” Plagg groused, folding his stubby arms. “Yippie.”

“You could stand to be happier about this,” Adrien teased. He was almost to the Agreste manor, and he didn’t want the day to end. He didn’t want to face Nathalie. “What’s your problem with us dating?”

“Ladynoir or whatever means you’ll probably be spending more time transformed,” Plagg grumbled. “And more chances for you to slip up and make smoochie faces while you’re in the suit.”

Adrien slowed to a stop. “Ah. I… I am sorry about that, Plagg.”

Plagg shrugged. “Just don’t do it again, Kid,” he ordered, and then gave Adrien a toothy grin. “Congratulations. Or whatever.”

Adrien beamed down at him. “Thanks, Plagg.”

Adrien hurried the rest of the way to the house, but stopped again before the front doors. He didn’t know what he was so afraid of. Swallowing the sudden anxiety flaring to life in his chest, he opened the door and slipped inside. 

“Adrien,” his father called from the top of the stairs in the foyer, arresting his attention. Nathalie stood by his side, blue eyes glued to her tablet. “Where were you?”

Adrien’s back tensed. He stood stiffly, trying not to lean on the door or press himself against it like he wanted to. “I… was helping an akuma victim,” he lied, casting his eyes to the ground. “One of the people who was burned to a crisp before the Miraculous Cure helped them.”

Adrien could almost hear Gabriel gritting his teeth. “Let Ladybug and Chat Noir help the bystanders. You are to come home immediately after school, and not get caught up in silly heroics.”

Adrien clenched his fists at his sides, feeling Plagg vibrate in his pocket. The boy looked up, facing his father and his assistant. “No.”

Nathalie’s jaw dropped. “Adrien--”

“No?” Gabriel whispered, his voice dangerously soft. “Is this another boundary?”

 _You bet it is,_ Adrien wanted to say, but bit his tongue just in time. “Yes,” he said coolly, staring straight ahead at the man he called Father. “I will always help those who need me.”

“You shouldn’t have even been around the akumas,” Gabriel snarled, his lip curling. “You know that.”

Adrien didn’t have an answer for that. He stared at his feet, angry tears rushing to his eyes.

“Give me your phone,” Gabriel demanded, and Adrien jerked his gaze up again. Gabriel was holding his hand out. “You will no longer have free reign to talk to whom you choose.”

Adrien had planned to call Marinette as soon as he got up to his room, but that hope was dashed. “Trying to keep me isolated, Father?” Adrien murmured, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He stalked up the stairs, and gently placed the offending electronic into Gabriel’s outstretched hand. “It won’t work.”

“Stop being stubborn.” Gabriel drew his hand back, the phone clutched tightly within his fingers. “I raised you better than this.”

 _You didn’t raise me at all,_ Adrien thought viciously, setting his jaw. _Nathalie did._

He glanced at her then. She was studiously avoiding his eyes, appearing to scroll along an article or a page on her tablet. 

“Good day, Father,” Adrien said, shifting his school bag on his shoulder. He tipped his head. “If there’s nothing more, I’ll be in my room.”

He pushed past Gabriel and Nathalie, not giving them a second glance, even as his father cried, “Adrien!”

Adrien jerked the door to his room open, entered the room, and carefully shut the door behind him. He was bred better than to slam a door, even as much as he wanted to go against his programming. He leaned against it, and sank down to his haunches, his back sliding against the wood. 

“Ugh,” Adrien whined, rubbing his temples to keep the burgeoning headache from overwhelming him.

Plagg phased out of his pocket. “Think of it this way, Kid. At least without your phone, he can’t track you?”

Adrien laughed bitterly. “He’ll probably give me the phone back when I leave the house.”

“Yeah, probably.” Plagg smirked. “I can Cataclysm it for you?”

Adrien’s grin was slightly less acerbic than his laugh, for Plagg’s sake. “Let’s not and say we didn’t.”

“Fair enough.” Plagg held up a tiny flipper. “But if you ever do want something destroyed, I’m your guy, okay?”

Adrien cupped his hands in front of him, and Plagg floated down to rest on his palms. “Thanks, Plagg. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anytime, kid. Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Marinette scares Adrien and he blows his identity as Chat Noir.

“Do you think that’s funny, Adrien?” Marinette seethed, advancing on his position on her chaise longue from her desk. Her Eiffel Tower pendant bounced against her chest as she stalked over to him.

Visiting her on Thursday night, Adrien steepled his fingers in front of his lips. He’d just asked her what she thought his akumatized form would look like, in an effort to get her to talk about the secret she’d been keeping from him for so long. Based on Marinette hunching her shoulders around her ears and her hostile reaction, that was clearly a mistake.

“No,” he replied quickly, his mouth suddenly dry. She reached the chaise longue, where he sat with his legs dangling off the edge, and caged him in by pressing her palms against the wall around his head. He ducked down, trying to pull away from her anger. “I was just thinking.” 

“Stop,” Marinette growled. 

He blinked at her. “Stop thinking?”

“Yes,” she affirmed, clenching her fists against the wall. “You don’t need to know what you looked like akumatized.”

Adrien licked his lips. Now was the moment of truth. Maybe she’d finally open up to him. “Mari,” he said gently. “Do you… Have you seen it?”

Marinette sucked a breath over her teeth. She tore her arms away and hugged herself, her entire body vibrating with repressed emotion. “N-No!” she stuttered, biting her lower lip and skittering away from him.

Adrien got to his feet immediately. He crossed to her and gently grasped her shoulders. She stood stiffly under his touch, eyes whirling, looking everywhere but his face. “Why are you lying to me?” he asked, his heart pinched tight like lips around a whimper. “We’ve talked about this.”

Again, that was the wrong thing to say. Marinette screamed, covering her ears. She crouched down, screwed her eyes shut, and panted.

“Marinette!” Adrien pleaded, dropping to his knees in front of her. His hands hovered awkwardly around her shoulders. He didn’t want to touch her, worried he’d hurt her--or she’d hurt herself trying to get away. “Marinette?”

“I-I can’t,” she rasped. “You’re not supposed to know who I am.”

“What?” Adrien whispered, stilling.

She opened her eyes. They were glazed, unfocused. “You’re not supposed to know who I am, Kitty!” 

She reached a hand out towards his neck, grabbing at nothing. Adrien wondered if she was looking for his bell. “Tell me,” she questione. “Do you remember where the akuma went?”

Adrien very carefully didn’t say her name, lest that set her off. “Tell me five things you can see.”

Marinette flinched. She glanced around the room. “My desk. My chaise. My cat pillow. My computer. My boyf…”

Adrien caught her hand and kissed her fingers. She blinked at him, her eyes coming back into focus. “A-Adrien?”

“You just scared the crap out of me,” Adrien muttered, rubbing her hand between his own. 

Marinette looked to their feet. “Sorry, I… I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do,” Adrien provided, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “I asked you about my being akumatized.” She stiffened, and he rubbed her back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Her fists clenched around his shirt. “I… I don’t…”

“Marinette,” Adrien started, kissing her pale forehead. “I think we need therapy.”

She leaned back to stare at him, her lip quivering. “Therapy? What do you mean?”

“My therapist figured out my identity,” Adrien continued patiently, wincing as Marinette’s eyes hardened. “I didn’t tell her, I promise.”

A muscle in Marinette’s jaw twitched. “You should have told me you were compromised.”

“I should have,” Adrien agreed, frowning. “I’m sorry. It hasn’t been for very long. Just a couple of weeks.” 

Marinette released his shirt and scrubbed her hands over her face. “Does she know my identity?”

“No,” Adrien reassured quickly, holding his hands up. “I’ve been really careful since then.”

Plagg phased out of the cabinet, followed by Tikki. “Pigtails,” Plagg started, his gaze focused on Marinette. “The therapist is really good for Adrien. I think she’d be good for you, too.”

Tikki hovered around Marinette’s face. “You don’t have to tell her your identity to see her. Just visit her as Ladybug.”

Marinette glanced between the two kwamis, frowning fiercely. She folded her arms. “You’re in on this, Tikki? I’m kind of surprised.”

“Marinette,” Adrien tried, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Just think about it, okay? Every time I try to talk to you about my being akumatized--” She tensed in his hold. “--you freak out.”

Marinette lowered her head. Adrien smelled salt, and saw teardrops plink onto the hardwood floor. “Okay,” she whispered. “We can try therapy if you think it’ll be helpful.”

Tikki did a little flip in the air, and Plagg smiled. “Good choice, Pigtails.”

Adrien folded Marinette against him, rubbing her back. Her hands came up from underneath to grip his arm. She leaned her head on his collarbone. Her words were soft, and a bit bitter. “You figured it out. My secret.”

“I did,” Adrien agreed, his hands stilling on her back. “Why did you keep that from me? Of all the things you could have kept, why that one?”

Marinette sniffled. “Shouldn’t we save this for the therapist?”

Adrien bit his lip. Marinette was just stalling, putting him off again. He hoped that Dr. Pemberley would be able to draw the truth out of her since he kept failing. “Okay,” he acquiesced, offering her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “My next appointment with Dr. Pemberley is on Tuesday at four pm. Her office has a balcony.”

“Okay.” Marinette gave a shuddering breath. “Okay.”

Plagg and Tikki phased back into the cabinet. Adrien didn’t know if Marinette saw them leave or not; she seemed focused on staring at her desk chair. “Are we okay?”

“What?” Marinette asked, raising her head to stare at him again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Adrien replied, hunching his shoulders, “that you seemed to be… really upset. And for good reason, I don’t doubt that. But when you’re upset, you get… scary.”

Marinette exhaled noisily and cupped his cheeks. “I’m sorry, dear heart. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know,” Adrien affirmed, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. “And I’m sorry that I brought it up when you weren’t ready.”

She shook her head. “I just… can’t find the words. Maybe--” She swallowed. “Maybe this Dr. Pemberley will help me.”

Adrien rested his hand on hers on his face. “I hope so, Marinette,” he said, tears stinging his eyes. “Gosh, I hope so, she’s--”

An akuma alert sounded on both their phones. Adrien groaned and dug his phone out of his pocket, shutting off the alarm. They’d fought three akumas that day already, and Adrien was growing sick of them. He was worried his grades would start slipping with all the class he was missing--or worse, his father would find out he was skipping school.

Marinette stared at the screen, her eyes hard. “Trocadero. Looks fire-based. Nadja Chamack is on the scene; Alya probably is, too.” Marinette had already shifted to being Ladybug in Adrien’s eyes; she was all determined glances and sharp grace. “Are you ready for this?”

Adrien sighed. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

***

“You know I’m terrible at Go Fish,” Adrien begged, his voice bordering on a whine. 

He was losing his third straight game against Kagami during their Friday playdate, which he blamed on his being the poster boy for bad luck. He was terrible at this game; where Kagami seemed to keep track of her cards and his, he could barely keep track of his own. 

“Go Fish is an easy game,” Kagami refuted, selecting a card from the draw pile, a haphazard set of cards scattered across the floor between them in her room. “It’s not my fault you don’t keep track of which cards I draw.”

“Meh!” Adrien pouted, looking over his cards once more. Kagami had three sets of four already, and he only had one. He decided a distraction was in order; if he couldn’t distract her, he would lose. “Did you know consent is a thing?”

Kagami blinked at him. "You didn't?"

"Nope," Adrien confirmed cheerfully. "Marinette told me all about it recently. She said that consent is all about communication.”

Kagami shifted on her kneeling position on the floor. She folded her cards in her hand into a single stack and tapped them on her palm. “I see. That you didn’t know about consent bothers me, Adrien.”

Now it was Adrien’s turn to blink. “It does? Why?”

Kagami gave him a pained look. “Because,” she explained softly, “it makes me wonder if I was forcing you to kiss me.”

Adrien sucked a breath over his teeth. “No!” He gasped, abandoning his cards to take her hand in his own. “No, I wanted to kiss you. Then. I used to really like kissing you.”

Kagami exhaled softly through her nose. She stared directly ahead at him. “I pushed you."

“Sort of,” Adrien agreed, wincing. Kagami didn’t flinch as he expected, merely squeezed his hand. “But you apologized afterwards, and didn’t do that again.” He frowned deeply. “It wasn’t obvious that I wanted to kiss you?”

“Partially,” Kagami said, her lips twisting. “You seemed to want to most of the time, but sometimes… It felt like your heart wasn’t in it.”

Adrien bit his lip. Kagami's amber eyes were watching him carefully, and out of respect for her, he didn't tear his gaze away like he wanted to. "Yeah," he responded finally. "Our relationship…" He ran a sweaty hand through his hair. "It was my fault the relationship failed. Unequivocally."

Kagami shook her head. Adrien smelled salt but didn't see tears yet. "No. It was partially my fault, too. I didn't give you what you needed."

"You couldn't have foreseen what I needed," Adrien refuted quickly, releasing her hand to windmill his. "My needs were too much for any one person to meet."

Kagami was still looking at him, her expression subtly pinched. "And yet. She still met them."

Adrien's breath caught in his throat. He nodded reluctantly. "She's not superhuman, Kagami. I ran her ragged, and wore her out because I was so needy." He pursed his lips. "You recommended therapy for me because I have a lot of issues, more than is healthy for any relationship. Thank you for that."

Kagami gave him a stiff nod in return. "Yes. You're welcome," she said, her gaze flicking to her cards. She set them down with a sigh and glanced back at him. “I’m glad that you’ve gotten therapy, Adrien.”

Tears stung Adrien’s eyes. “But you’re not happy.”

Kagami's grimace deepened. “Sometimes I question if any of it was real,” she continued, her voice hollow. “Whether we really cared for each other.”

“I cared about you,” Adrien murmured, noticing that she had carefully avoided the word loved. “And I know you cared a lot for me.”

Kagami shifted positions. She went from kneeling in seiza to sitting on her bottom, and then brought a knee up to her chest, wrapping an arm around it. Adrien didn’t blame her for closing herself off, for seeking comfort. “I did,” she confirmed, drawing a breath through her nose. “I do.”

“Kagami,” Adrien began, itching to take her hand, but refusing to do so while she was so avoidant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I wish… I wish you weren’t in love with me--”

Kagami cut him off with a snort. “I’m not _in_ love with you, Adrien. Not anymore. But I do love you.”

“Oh.” Adrien’s chest shuddered. He was absurdly relieved, filled with inappropriate joy at the fact that she still loved him, despite not being _in_ love with him anymore. “I feel the same,” he continued, offering her a watery smile. The smile faded. “But I do think what we had was real.”

Kagami squeezed her eyes shut. She lowered her head, taking a moment to breathe. Then she raised her head again. Her eyes opened slowly, fixing on Adrien’s face. “Really?”

“Really, really,” Adrien promised, laying a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch or shy away, so Adrien took that as a good sign. But nor did she lean into his touch, which he took as a bad one. “What we had… I messed up pretty badly. But in order for me to have messed up, we had to have something real.”

Kagami peered at him. Adrien shivered under her scrutiny. “I understand,” she replied, and then smiled. Her smile was like a sunbreak on a rainy day, and Adrien couldn’t help but beam back. “You can let go of me, now. I won’t break.”

Adrien drew his hand back. He didn’t tell her that him touching him was more for him than her. “I never told you,” he carried on, leaning forward to kiss her cheek, which she let him do, “but I am so proud of you for not succumbing to akumatization over our breakup.”

“You don’t have to be proud of me for that.” Kagami scoffed and narrowed her eyes. “It only reminds me of the times I was akumatized.”

“Sorry,” Adrien apologized, leaning back on his haunches. He rubbed the back of his head. “Those were both over me?”

“I don’t feel particularly inclined to talk about them,” Kagami deflected, looking towards her kotatsu. 

“Sorry. Again,” Adrien said, squirming in place. “So let’s talk about something else.”

Kagami turned her face back to him. “Like what, Adrien?”

“Uhh,” Adrien floundered. The only topics he could think of was how much he missed Marinette or that his father was being a pill and neither of those lines of conversation were fair to Kagami. “Any new cello pieces?”

“Yes, actually,” Kagami confirmed, a crooked smile finding its way to her lips. “Bruch’s Kol Nidrei. It has religious connotations that are interesting to me.”

“Jewish, right?” Adrien inquired, cocking his head.

“Yes,” Kagami said, inclining hers. “Though Bruch was a Protestant.”

“Interesting,” Adrien mused, returning to a cross-legged position, where he was more comfortable. “Maybe you can play it for me sometime.”

“I can play it for you right now.” Kagami chuckled. She swept a hand over the draw pile. “We’re not going back to this game of Go Fish, are we?”

“Nope,” Adrien said, popping the p.

Kagami’s eyes twinkled. “And that was your plan all along?” 

“Yep,” Adrien said, popping that p, too.

Kagami laughed, a sound that rang freely and clearly. Adrien couldn’t help laughing along with her.

“Kagami,” Adrien started, smiling. “Do you think you--”

An akuma alert sounded on both their phones. Adrien’s eyes widened. He leapt to his feet, scattering the cards, drawing his phone out of his pocket as he did so. “Now?”

Kagami stood slowly, abandoning her cards on the floor. “What’s the matter?” she asked, instantly on the alert. 

She stood side-on, leading with her right hand, with her foot on that side pointed towards Adrien while her rear foot pointed out at roughly ninety degrees. He recognized it as the En Garde stance, the starting position for a fencing match. 

“I have to go,” Adrien answered quickly, gluing his eyes to his phone’s screen as he shut off the alarm. Ladybug was already on the scene, fighting a plant-based Akuma who was whipping thorny, green vines dotted with roses at her. Nadja Chamack was providing a running commentary on the third akuma of the day.

“Why?” Kagami said, her eyes boring into him. She stepped forward and grasped his elbow. “Adrien. What’s wrong?”

“The akuma, it’s--” he started, but cut himself off with the shake of his head. “My father always wants me home when there’s an akuma out. And Ladybug… needs Chat.”

Kagami gasped. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand. “You’re him, aren’t you?” she whispered, and Adrien winced. “You’re Chat Noir.”

Adrien stuffed his phone in his pocket and took her hand. “Kagami, please. You can’t tell anyone. Please.”

“I knew it,” Kagami muttered, her gaze on him sharp and piercing. “I knew that’s what Salad was. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

“You knew?” Adrien goggled. 

Kagami nodded sharply. “This whole time--for two _years_ \--you’ve been battling akumas. And you can’t afford to be distracted!”

Adrien bit his lip. “I didn’t want to hide it from you, I swear.”

“ _Go_ , Adrien,” Kagami insisted, pointing to her open window. “Ladybug needs you.”

Granted permission, Adrien bolted out the window, calling for his transformation as soon as he flew off the sill. Chat grabbed his baton in mid-air and vaulted over to the Eiffel Tower, where Ladybug was struggling against the akuma.

The fight was nasty. Chat panicked about needing to Cataclysm them out of the vines twice, recharging Plagg. Adrien was out of cheese by the time Ladybug called for her Lucky Charm, a rotary phone. She worked her magic while Chat batted giant thorns shot at them away with his baton, protecting her.

By the time that they’d finished the fight, Chat was exhausted--and late coming home. Unlike walking to school, he had not gotten his father to agree to let him walk to Kagami’s, so Adrien would have to explain where he’d been to Nathalie and the Gorilla--and hopefully not Gabriel.

But first, he needed to talk to Ladybug. “Bug,” he called, getting her attention as she comforted the victim, a mousy girl with glasses. She turned to him, and he whispered in her ear. “My identity has been compromised. My ex knows.”

Ladybug blinked at him. “You’re about to transform back,” she said, pointing at his ring. “Text me, okay?”

Chat nodded, and vaulted back to Kagami’s, landing in her room just as his transformation left him. 

Kagami tackled him, almost knocking him over as she wrapped him up in an embrace. He rubbed her back, feeling her body tremble against his. “Adrien,” she cried, her voice choked. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled into her hair. She smelled like patchouli and cloves, her usual scent. “I’ll… try to be safer, okay?”

Kagami drew back, and he noted with alarm that there were tears in her eyes. “You’ve died for her. For Ladybug.”

“Yeah,” Adrien confirmed, rubbing the back of his head again. “It was what I had to do.”

Kagami squeezed his shoulders. “Tell me everything.”

“I can’t,” Adrien denied, closing his eyes. He opened them again to face his ex-girlfriend, the person he’d once trusted with his life. “Her identity has to remain secret. Just because I’ve blown mine… I can’t tell you hers.”

“I understand,” Kagami assured, and her amber eyes were soft and gentle, taking him in. She kissed his cheek. “Tell me everything other than that.”

Adrien swallowed. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien is tired.

Chat collapsed onto Marinette’s chaise longue at four forty-eight in the morning on Sunday, sleepily calling, “Plagg, claws in,” into the cushion. The transformation light washed over him, leaving a closed-eyed Adrien who was just about to fall asleep before Marinette poked him in the side.

“Kitty,” she mumbled, yawning. She cracked her neck. “You need to feed Plagg and go home.”

Adrien cracked a bleary eye open, feeling like someone had piled sand onto his eyelids. After dinner, he and Marinette had fought four different akumas, one right after the other, battling from seven pm to four-thirty am. The superheroes and their kwamis had been pushed to their limits, and all four beings were feeling the strain. 

Despite the adrenaline rush that always came from fighting akumas, Adrien wanted nothing more than to sleep, even if he’d have a nightmare about Cataclysming Marinette. His limbs felt heavy and dead, and his breathing was already slowing. He swore he could feel drool escaping the corner of his mouth.

“She’s right,” Plagg whined, resting on his back on the cushion near Adrien’s head. “You do need to feed me.”

Adrien groaned and pushed himself up to a sitting position, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. “I don’t have any more food, Plagg. That’s why we came here, it was close.”

“Your house is just as close,” Plagg snarked, though without any of his usual fire.

Adrien swung his head up to look at Marinette with glazed-over eyes. She was cupping Tikki in her palm and feeding the red mini-god a pink macaron. Marinette’s shoulders were slumped; every line of her body radiated fatigue. 

When Marinette spoke, her voice plodded out into the silence. “I have cheese. Not camembert, sorry, Plagg, but I do have cheese.” She sighed. “Let me feed Tikki, and I’ll go downstairs to get some.”

“We can’t keep doing this, Bug,” Adrien whispered, his head drooping down to his chest. “He’s thrown several akumas a day since he returned from… wherever he was. We can’t keep up.”

“I know.” Marinette swayed on her feet.

Marinette took one step forward. Abruptly, she crashed to her knees, making Adrien’s heart slam into his throat. “Marinette!”

Suddenly fully awake, Adrien leapt from the chaise and bolted over to her, sliding on his knees on the hardwood floor. He caught her before she fell backwards and hit her head, cradling her against his chest. “Marinette? Marinette! Hey!”

Still holding her macaron, Tikki hovered anxiously near Marinette’s face. “You’re both too tired, Adrien,” Tikki murmured, sounding far too calm for Adrien’s liking. “She’ll wake up, soon. But she needs sleep.”

Adrien gently rubbed Marinette’s forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and a gasp left her throat. “Adrien?” she stammered, and reached up with a shaking hand to cup his stubbly cheek. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Adrien explained, unable to keep himself from panting. Frustrated tears welled in his eyes--bright pinpricks of pain. “You scared me, little mouse.”

“I’m sorry, Kitty,” Marinette apologized, dropping her hand. “I’m just so… tired.”

Plagg floated over and nestled in Adrien’s hair. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can all go to sleep.”

Adrien scooped Marinette up in a bridal carry and walked her up the stairs to her loft bed. Using one arm to brace her in his hold, he folded her blankets down, and then laid her on the pillows. 

“Kitty?” she mumbled, her eyes already closed. She yawned again. “What about Plagg’s cheese?”

“I’ll get it.” Adrien eased her shoes off her feet and tossed them over the side of the bed rail onto the floor. He carefully covered her up and tucked her in. “You just sleep, okay?”

Marinette nodded. He knelt on the bed and kissed her cheek, but she was already drooling onto the pillow by the time he pulled away.

Tikki waited for Adrien at the bottom. “You will get some sleep, too, right?” she whispered, her large, indigo eyes piercing him through. “I know she scared you tonight, but she just needs sleep. She’ll be right as rain in the morning.”

Adrien’s shoulders sagged. “We have school in a few hours.”

“Skip it,” Plagg demanded from the top of Adrien’s head, just as Tikki said, “You can’t miss that.”

Adrien smiled at the two kwamis’ disparate views. “Good night, Tikki.”

“I worry about you both, Adrien, I truly do." Tikki took another bite of her macaron. “Take care, won’t you?”

“I will,” Adrien agreed, waving at her as he walked to the trap door. He drew a deep breath through his nose. He had to proceed carefully. If he was caught by one of Marinette’s parents, he and she both would be in huge trouble.

He opened the trap door with a creak, and descended the stairs enough to shut it behind him, cursing at the loud squeaking noise the hinge made. He padded down the carpeted stairs, peeking down over the rail to see if Tom or Sabine were in the room.

Seeing no one on the landing, Adrien bolted into the kitchen. He jerked the fridge open and rummaged around inside, looking for the cheese drawer. “Where is it?” he whispered, frowning. “This better be worth it, Plagg.”

“Adrien Agreste!” Sabine snapped, and Adrien shot straight up, bonking his head on the fridge. “What on earth are you doing looking in our fridge at five in the morning?”

Adrien rubbed his head. He felt Plagg nestle down into his hair as he faced the irate woman, who had her hands on her hips. He shut the fridge door, stalling for time. “I, uh, was looking for… um, cheese?”

He couldn’t come up with a lie fast enough, so the truth tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it. But to his surprise, Sabine’s eyes softened. “Oh,” she murmured, and pushed past him to open the fridge for him. She switched to Chinese, and Adrien’s foggy brain struggled to keep up. “Were the akumas that bad?”

Adrien inhaled sharply. “What could you possibly mean, Sabine?” he replied in perfect Mandarin.

“Cut the act, Chat,” Sabine demanded, her sharp gaze flicking to Plagg, who squirmed and burrowed his way down into Adrien’s floofy hair. 

Adrien gasped. His stomach bottomed out, and his eyes widened. “You know?”

Sabine’s gaze turned motherly once again. She located a block of bleu cheese, and plopped it into Adrien’s hands. “I do." She nodded. “But Tom doesn’t. He’ll figure it out soon, though.”

“H-How?” Adrien stammered, breaking a piece of the cheese off the block, and passing it to Plagg, who snarfed it down from his fingers. 

“I’ve known for quite some time, Adrien,” Sabine reported, folding her arms. “You love my daughter, don’t you?”

Adrien was stunned. “Of course,” he gushed, holding his hand over his heart. “I would die for her, Sabine.”

Plagg snorted and spoke in fluent Mandarin. “You already have.”

Sabine nodded firmly. “I thought so." Adrien smelled salt, and saw tears filling her eyes, which alarmed him. She pulled him into a sudden hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head on his chest. “My son. Oh, my precious boy.”

Adrien bit back a gasp. Tears stung his eyes as well, and he looped his arms around the woman he’d come to think of as a second mother. “Sabine, I…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Sabine murmured against his chest. “I already know.”

Adrien broke. He let loose keening sobs, trying to cry quietly so as to not alert Tom to his presence. Adrien’s nose filled with snot, and he wiped it on the back of his wrist, still holding the block of bleu cheese. He leaned against Sabine, taking comfort in her strength, recognizing that she loved him for who he was, both sides of him.

It had been Sabine who had introduced him to Le Donjon. Who had fed him on both sides of the mask and who had allowed him to spend time with her family and love her daughter. 

And now Adrien had to tell Marinette that her mother knew. That their identities had been compromised by more than just Kagami and Dr. Pemberley. If any of those women were akumatized… Adrien shuddered, trying to stuff the terrifying thoughts.

Adrien panted, crying himself into--and eventually out of--a knot. Despite his always hating to do so, the release of emotions felt… strangely cathartic. He hadn’t realized how much comfort he could take in someone else knowing his secrets. 

_Secret identities are stupid,_ Adrien thought bitterly, salting Sabine’s hair with his tears.

Finally letting his sobs die down, Adrien gave Marinette’s mother one last squeeze and stepped back. He wiped his eyes with a shaking hand. “Thank you.”

“No." Sabine stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his stubbly cheek. “Thank _you_.”

“For what?”

“What do you think?” Sabine said, pursing her lips at him. “Protecting her. Saving her. _Dying_ for her. Not everyone could do that, Adrien. Not everyone would want to.” 

Adrien gave her a massive sniff. “Oh,” he whispered, feeling a weight pressing his shoulders down. They sagged, and he wondered if his father would chastise him for his bad posture the next time Gabriel saw him. “Yeah.”

Sabine clucked her tongue. “I’d ask you to stay for breakfast, but you need to sleep. Go home, kitten. Get some rest.”

Adrien laughed brokenly. “Will do,” he confirmed, and Plagg took that as his cue to devour half the bleu cheese. Once he nodded at Adrien, the boy called for his transformation. “Plagg, claws out.”

Sabine’s eyes widened as Plagg was sucked into the ring. The transformation light washed over Adrien, revealing Chat. He smiled down at Sabine, weakly, and kissed her forehead. He returned to French to say one last thing. “Goodbye, Maman.”

Sabine beamed up at him. “Goodnight, son.”

As he was walking towards the window in the living room, cheese in hand, Chat gave her a two-fingered salute. He opened the window and extended his baton down to the street, pushing himself off the sill. 

_She knows,_ Chat thought, his exhausted mind going a million miles a minute. His thoughts slipped through his fingers like sand; as soon as he thought he’d gotten a grasp on them, they disappeared, chafing him on the way. 

_I have to tell Marinette,_ Chat thought, arriving at the Agreste manor and ducking in through the window. His night vision cast a greenish glow over everything, including the clock, which shone with a number he couldn’t comprehend at the moment due to tiredness. 

Chat blinked his bleary eyes, and opened his communicator on his baton. “Ladybug,” he said dully, leaving her a message. “Your mom knows. We’ll talk about it.”

Chat closed his communicator and replaced his baton on his back. He staggered over to his bed, almost forgetting to whisper, “Claws in,” on the way. Thankfully, he remembered just in time, and called off his transformation just as he collapsed onto his pillow. He wrapped his arms around the soft fabric, and closed his eyes.

“Kid,” Plagg mumbled, and Adrien cracked one eye open. “Listen… You’re being pushed too hard right now.”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Plagg affirmed, curling up near Adrien’s head and yawning. “Just take care of yourself, okay? People make mistakes when they get tired.” 

“Thanks, Plagg,” Adrien murmured, muscles in his arms and legs twitching involuntarily. “Good night.”

“Good morning, Kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Chat has a meltdown.

Chat balanced his Destiny Tile on top of his head, slowly climbing on top of his chair. His limbs were dead weight. Adrien had managed about an hour and a half of sleep the night before, and had gone to school and fought three akumas during the day, running on empty. Woofster had joined him and Ladybug for the last two at Chat’s insistence, but even with a third hero, they’d struggled.

Tom and Sabine had offered to let him and Marinette sleep, but neither of them would hear of it. He wanted to play board games with the Dupain-Cheng family. He’d wanted that deep down in his soul. Chat and Marinette clung to the threads of normalcy the game brought them as hard as they could, trading sleepy banter with her parents and each other. 

He just couldn’t concentrate on the game with all the yawning he was doing. 

“Good job passing the skill check, Chat,” Tom praised, giving him an encouraging smile. Sabine also beamed at him. Marinette gave him an exhausted thumbs up.

Chat nodded, swaying on the chair. “Thanks, M. Dupain.”

“Call me Tom,” he said, standing to offer Chat a massive hand.

Feeling lightheaded, Chat closed his clawed fingers around Tom’s, and allowed the man to help him down. He took the Destiny Tile off his head and set it in front of him on the table.

Chat sat down heavily, his shoulders sagging. He pillowed his arms on the table and rested his head on them, his eyes drifting closed. 

He woke up screaming. Chat had once again Cataclysmed someone in his nightmares; Nino this time. Nino had dissolved right before Chat’s eyes, and Chat had breathed the other boy in and coughed himself to death. 

“Chat?” Sabine called, holding her hands out in front of her. “Your baton’s going off.”

“Wha?” he replied intelligently, raising his weary head. His face was wet, and his teeth hurt. Someone had draped a blanket around his shoulders, and it slipped off onto the floor as soon as he struggled to stand from the dining room chair. “Who’s turn issit?” 

The piercing alarm of his baton filtered into his consciousness. Chat forced himself to check the akuma alert and to turn off the siren song. 

He had a job to do. He had to respond to this.

Chat sniffled. Hot tears pierced his eyes, rolling over his cheeks. “It’s not fair. It’s… It’s just not. Does the man never sleep?”

Sabine pulled him into a tight embrace. “I know, honey,” she sootheid, smoothing his bangs off his forehead to press a kiss there. “I’m sorry we’re all depending on you.”

Chat sighed and glanced to his right. Someone was missing. Someone important. Someone he needed. The penny dropped, and he blinked. “Where’s Marinette?” he asked, hoping beyond hope that she’d gotten some sleep while he had. “I can’t do this without her.”

“She’s in her bed,” Sabine offered, her gaze softening. “Do you want me to wake her?”

“No.” Chat sighed, drawing a slow, painful breath through his nose. “I’ll do it.”

“Come right back here when you’re done, okay?” Sabine pleaded, patting his cheek. “I’ll make you some coffee and waffles.”

Chat smiled down at the small woman who’d adopted him. He placed a hand on her head. “Thank you, Maman.”

Sabine beamed up at him, patting his shoulder. “Go, Chat.”

Chat left her and plodded up the stairs to Marinette’s room. He knocked on the trap door before realizing she probably wouldn’t hear it, being asleep. 

Sleep. Chat envied her at that moment, for being able to rest in her bed. His neck felt stiff from leaning over the table. His legs felt like jelly, and he still wasn’t fully awake. He opened the trap door and blinked several times in the bright light.

 _Light?_ Chat thought muzzily, his eyes carefully sweeping the room.

Ladybug stood near her desk, her hands closed around the chair. Her head was lowered, and her shoulders were trembling. 

“Ladyb--” Chat started, but was cut off by a violent yawn. “--ug. You ready?”

She sniffled and turned to him. Even his sense of smell was off; he saw her tears streaking down her mask before the salt from them hit his nose. “Yeah,” she mumbled, scrubbing her hands over her eyes. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Akuma’s at the Arc de Triomphe,” Chat supplied, forgetting for a moment that Ladybug would probably already know that. Her yo-yo received akuma alerts, just like his baton. “I think. Should be, anyway. I hope we don’t have to track it down this time, that would really suck, and… And I don’t know if I’m up for it, you know? I mean, I could be, if I had to, but at the moment...”

Ladybug crossed to him and placed a gloved finger on his lips. “You’re rambling, Kitty.”

“Sorry,” Chat apologized, hanging his head. “Tired.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I know.”

Ladybug trudged up the stairs leading to her loft bed and knelt on the mattress. For a moment, Chat thought she was going to lie down, but she didn’t, merely opened the skylight and pulled herself through, grunting with the effort. Chat followed her out. 

They stood on the balcony for a few moments, blinking at each other. Chat opened his mouth to say something, but he forgot what he was about to say. 

Luckily, Ladybug said it for him. “Let’s get this over with. I need a nap.”

Chat laughed bitterly, vaulding himself towards the Arc.

A camera crew was present on the scene with a black-haired reporter jabbering away furiously into the mic. She looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and envy struck Chat in the chest. The akuma, an unassuming little girl with long, navy blue hair and pale-as-paper skin, was standing on top of the Arc de Triomphe. 

Ladybug yo-yo’d her way up to the top, and Chat, as always, followed. They landed side by side on the roof, Ladybug offering the akuma a calculating gaze and Chat giving her a once-over. 

Her eyes were pits of blackness, and she looked like she’d been crying inky tears as streaks spilled over her face. She didn’t speak. She didn’t even move. 

“Okay, officially creeped out now,” Chat whispered to Ladybug, and she nodded, not taking her eyes off the akuma. “I don’t have any little girl puns, and this is straight out of a horror movie.”

“Do you see the akumatized object? I can hardly see in the dark,” Ladybug whispered back, and now it was Chat’s turn to nod.

“Necklace or hospital bracelet.”

“Good eye, Kitty.” Ladybug stepped forward, holding her hand out. “We’re here to help. Will you come quietly?”

Chat only had a second to react as the girl opened her mouth like a boa constrictor and let loose a piercing scream. He shoved Ladybug out of the way, being struck head-on by visible sound waves. 

“Chat!” Ladybug cried, leaping back to her feet.

But nothing hurt. Aside from his ears ringing, he wasn’t even phased. He patted his arms down, brushing pretend lint off his costume. “I’m… I’m fine.”

Then his heart started pounding. It slammed against his sternum, and he felt the muscle beat in his palate. Pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he moved his hands to his chest to try and quiet the painful sensation.

Then the other symptoms set in. His skin was charged and tingling and throbbing. Chat began to uncontrollably shake. All his senses flared into overdrive. Feeling like a rubber band stretched to the breaking point, he screamed. Mental explosions went off deep inside him, and for a moment, he swore nothing would happen, but then they became external rather than internal. 

Completely overwhelmed by the sensory inputs, Chat flailed, striking out at nothing with his fists and feet. He could see nothing and everything; smell nothing and everything, hear nothing and everything. He could taste the akuma’s ink on the wind. The bitterness filled his mouth and made him gag on his own spit. 

“Chat!” Ladybug screamed, her voice simultaneously piercing his ears and sounding as if she were underwater. “You’ll be okay!” 

_No,_ Chat thought, collapsing to the ground, his hands slapping the concrete roof of the Arc. The tenderness flaring in his palms made him pant; even his hands were sensitized. _No, no, no, no, no no no--_

He tried to track Ladybug dodging out of the way of the akuma’s screams, but his Lady was a red blur in his swimming vision. Sobs tore their way out of his throat; he could do nothing but cry for the fear and the pain of the meltdown. He needed space, he needed air, he needed--he didn’t know what. But he was a twisted ball of unmet needs, his body rebelling against his brain.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug called. Chat couldn’t spare a thought to try and see what she’d received. He began choking, coughing, spitting; he couldn’t _breathe_. He rolled on the ground, kicking and shouting.

He was throwing an absolute fit. Mortification filtered through to his overstimulated brain. He knew deep inside that he would be okay, eventually, that Ladybug would throw the Lucky Charm and activate her Cure and everything would be fine. There was no reason for him to have a meltdown. 

But he couldn’t control himself. His limbs had minds of their own; his body had been completely taken over by a monster outside himself. 

And yet… And yet he knew that this fit, this horrible tantrum, came from within his own brain. He was entirely to blame. Chat yearned to get himself back under control, to return to his normal ability to handle things. But he couldn’t. He was too weak. He had no willpower in the face of his senses going absolutely off-kilter.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” his Lady called, and the millions of tiny helpers flowed over the Arc, surrounding Chat’s body. The terrible flood hitting his senses stopped; his vision cleared, and he blinked up into the night. He was lying on his back, his limbs trembling. Shame made his stomach sick. Bile rose up in his throat. 

But despite the ladybugs trying to fix him, he was still on edge, still overstimulated, still tempted to throw another fit. He couldn’t stand. He couldn’t even speak. 

Chat turned his head, seeking Ladybug with wild eyes. She was comforting the akumatized victim, a brunette child. “... And we’ll take you home, okay?” Ladybug said, squeezing the girl’s shoulder.

The girl began to cry. Chat cried with her. Ladybug picked her up, rubbing her back. 

“Chat,” Ladybug started, turning to him. She finally appeared to notice his undone state. “I’m going to take the victim home. Are you going to be able to pull yourself together?”

Chat tried to say something, but his shaking made him bite his tongue. He shook his head, but he wasn’t able to tell if Ladybug had gotten the message. 

She did. “Stay here,” she told him in a voice that brooked no argument. “I’ll come back for you, okay?”

He tried to nod but ended up swallowing saliva instead. 

Ladybug took off, beating a hasty retreat.

Chat lay on top of the Arc and trembled. 

Chat tried counting backwards from one hundred to calm himself down. He spelled all his names forwards and backwards again. He turned over the tuning problem in his head, a thought-exercise that prompted physicists to dictate that the universe is fine-tuned for life because if it had different properties, humans wouldn’t be there to ask the question.

Nothing worked. Chat was realizing with growing horror that he really didn’t have any techniques for this, that he was going to keep feeling sick and shaky until Ladybug returned to comfort him. 

Ladybug would know what to do. She always had a plan.

Finally feeling his heart rate slowing down from its rapid staccato, Chat rolled over onto his stomach. He pushed himself up by resting his palms flat against the concrete and slowly pulled his knees up under his belly. Curling around them and resting his head on the rooftop seemed like a good plan. He was too dizzy to stand.

That’s how Ladybug found him--crouched in a sort of fetal position.

She placed her hand on his shoulder, and he shivered. Her touch was too much, even through the suit. His skin was still sensitized.

“Chat,” Ladybug whispered, and that, too, was too much. “Are you okay?”

“F-Fine,” he forced out.

He was not fine, but he clung to the lie as if he could make it true by speaking the concept into existence.

Ladybug surprised him by picking him up. She held him firmly in her arms, cradling him against her chest. The warm pressure of her hands on his body soothed him more than he cared to admit.

Shifting so she could hold him in one arm, she whipped her yo-yo off the top of the Arc and carried him back to the bakery. She didn’t drop her transformation until she’d set him down on the chaise longue. “Give me a second, okay?” Marinette requested, cupping his stubbly cheek in her hand. “I’ve got something that might help.”

She left him quivering on the chaise, and he curled up on his side again, trying once again to control himself. He tried to track her movements around the room, but she was moving too fast. Chat closed his eyes.

Then he felt a curious pressure all over his body, from his neck down to his toes. He opened his eyes again to see that she had placed her weighted blanket on top of him. The warm, firm weight tranquilized him. Chat drew his first deep breath since he’d seen the akuma, and realized he’d been holding them practically the entire time he’d suffered the meltdown. 

Chat’s arms and legs twitched involuntarily, one at a time, and his former exhaustion washed over him. Now that the threat had passed, his heart rate slowed and his breathing returned to normal. He felt strangely untroubled; the weighted blanket chilled him out and made his limbs heavy. 

He dozed, waking up once to look around for Marinette. She’d collapsed at the side of the chaise, lying on her knees and resting her head on her arms. Groggy, but now completely calm, Chat shook her shoulder. “Marinette. Marinette. Hey. Little mouse,” he whispered. “You need to sleep in your own bed.”

Tikki floated over to him. “I agree,” she said, inclining her red, bulbous head. “And you need to go home, Adrien.”

“Yeah,” Chat agreed, not wanting to leave the comforting pressure of the weighted blanket behind. “I don’t want to, but I must. What time is it, Tikki?”

“Past midnight,” Tikki supplied, not without sympathy. “And you have school tomorrow.”

Chat broke. Her concern for his schooling was too much. He let loose a choked sob, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. Then he felt a soft, tiny touch; Tikki was patting his temple with her little flipper. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Tikki,” Chat pleaded, his voice hollow as he lowered his shaking hands. “I can’t. And neither can she.”

“You have to,” Tikki insisted, her huge, indigo eyes flashing. Then her gaze softened. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I really am. But you need to be strong, okay?” Tikki paused. Then she twisted the knife. “If not for yourself or the sake of the city, do it for her.”

Chat sucked a breath over his teeth. He glanced down at Marinette, at her drawn and pale face. “Okay,” he relented, not looking at the red kwami. “Okay. I can do it.”

He wriggled out of the comforting weighted blanket and got to his feet by the chaise. Carefully, trying not to wake her, Chat lifted Marinette. She felt light as a feather to his exhausted arms, which he was grateful for; he didn’t think he would be able to carry her to her bed if she were any heavier.

Plodding up the stairs, he laid her on the mattress and removed her shoes, feeling the strongest sense of deja vu. Had he already done this before? When? He was confused, and so, so tired--and he decided that whether he’d put her to bed once or a thousand times, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting home and getting some sleep now.

Chat covered her up, tucking her in. She rolled over, letting loose a little moan that normally would have curled his toes, but right now he was too exhausted to focus on those sorts of noises.

Opening the skylight, he launched himself into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [@sing-in-me-oh-muse](https://sing-in-me-oh-muse.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \---
> 
> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, there's no more running; Ladybug reveals the nightmare she has been living with.

Chat sat on Dr. Pemberley’s navy blue couch, tapping his foot nervously. His gaze kept trailing to the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony. He’d been waiting six whole minutes for Ladybug. _She’d promised she’d show, so where is she?_ Truth be told, he was nervous about this appointment. He didn’t know if Marinette would freak out like she always had when discussing his akumatization.

“Are you all right, Adrien?” Dr. Pemberley inquired, taking a seat in her gold-colored chair across from him. She’d changed up her usual legal pad; rather than a yellow, blue-lined one, this one was white with red lines. Chat wondered at the change but decided it didn’t matter.

He wasn’t all right. He wasn’t all right at all. 

He was exhausted, for one thing. Hawkmoth had thrown another four akumas that day, and Chat had missed practically all of school. Chat was keyed up from the fights, strung out on adrenaline and nerves, wondering if he’d ever go back to a calm, relaxed state again. He panted slightly, his heart slamming against his ribcage. If he could bite his claws through his gloves, he would. 

Chat settled for chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m fine.” He raised one shoulder in a half-shrug at Dr. Pemberley without looking at her; his eyes kept tracking the balcony. “Just… nervous.”

“Worried she won’t show?” Dr. Pemberley asked sympathetically.

Chat swallowed. He didn’t want to admit that’s why he was worried. As always, his therapist had hit the nail on the head and called him out. He nodded stiffly.

“You need to trust her, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley insisted, crossing her legs. “Give her the benefit of the doubt. Only if she decides not to show should your trust in her be broken, and then we’ll have other issues to deal with.”

“Yeah,” Chat said, perking up. “She’s probably just psyching herself up.”

“Exactly.” Dr. Pemberley inclined. “Try not to worry, Adrien.”

Chat curled up on the arm of the couch, drumming his fingers against his cheek. He then yawned, leaning his face on his palm. 

The next thing he knew, someone was shaking his shoulder. “Chat?” Ladybug called, and Chat jolted awake, flailing. He almost knocked himself off the couch, eyes darting around the room until they focused on his partner. “Chat, calm down. It’s okay.”

“Where’s the akuma?” he slurred, feeling drool drying on the corner of his mouth.

“There’s no akuma,” Ladybug said gently, cupping his stubbly cheek. “We’re safe. We’re in Dr. Pemberley’s office.”

“Oh,” Chat said, glancing over to the doctor’s chair. She was still seated, legs crossed at the knee and legal pad in her lap. “Sorry. I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

“It’s perfectly fine, Chat,” Dr. Pemberley soothed. “You needed the sleep, and you were only out for a few minutes.”

Ladybug took a seat next to him on the couch, leaning back into the cushion. She looked as nervous as Chat had felt earlier. But now that she was here, Chat’s relief bubbled up in his chest. He could have laughed, but he knew that hysterical laughter would be inappropriate at the best of times. So he swallowed it, tamped it down and packed it away into his little box labeled Feelings.

“Shall we begin?” the therapist asked, clicking her pen open. “Ladybug, it is truly an honor to meet you. Why don’t you tell me what has brought you both into therapy today?”

Ladybug squeaked. “He wanted me to come.”

Chat opened his mouth to object, but he didn’t know what he was objecting to. She spoke the truth. He did want her to come. He just thought she might have wanted to come as well. 

Dr. Pemberley seemed to sense his discomfort and asked the question that was on his mind. “But you don’t want to be here?”

Ladybug gave Chat a pained look. “Not really.”

 _Points for honesty,_ Chat thought, sighing. He wanted to burst out with the reasons he’d asked her to come, to explain to Dr. Pemberley that Marinette had constantly shut him out and had broken his trust. He didn’t want to admit that he’d broken her trust, too, but he was still sore about being stonewalled for so long.

And for what? Something monumental, sure, but why wouldn’t she let him help carry the burden? He didn’t understand why it was worth panicking over. He couldn’t do that much damage akumatized… could he?

“That’s too bad,” Dr. Pemberley said, not appearing offended in the slightest. “Is there any way we can make you more comfortable?”

Ladybug shifted on the couch. “How does therapy work?”

“Ideally,” Dr. Pemberly began, tapping her pen on her legal pad, “we’d form a trusting relationship over time, one where you’d feel comfortable disclosing issues you may be having with the wider world. This is a safe space where you can explain what you’re struggling with.” 

Dr. Pemberley tilted her head. “The therapist’s job is to listen and encourage you to confront unhealthy patterns of behavior that might be leading to your problems. It only works if the patient is willing to work on themselves.”

Chat released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Dr. Pemberley has helped me a lot.”

“You helped yourself, Chat Noir.” Dr. Pemberley smiled. “I may have given you the script you used on your father to help you quit modeling, but you said the words to him.”

Chat found Dr. Pemberley calling him by his superhero name odd. But she'd told him she would because he'd told her earlier that Ladybug didn't know his identity, and he hadn't done anything to correct the impression.

Ladybug nodded, her head wobbling unsteadily. “So I just… tell you what’s wrong?”

“Yup,” Chat said, flashing her a quick grin that he hoped was supportive.

“Chat explained to me that you’d been struggling with something,” Dr. Pemberley started, inclining her head, “but he wanted you to tell me in your own words.”

Ladybug looked at him then, her eyes filled with such naked gratitude that his belly twisted. She took his hand and offered it a squeeze. “Okay,” she said, inhaling quickly. “Okay. I can do this.”

“You can,” Chat promised, bringing her hand up and kissing her knuckles. “I’m here for you, little mouse.”

Ladybug exhaled noisily, her breath coming out in a fast gust that blew Chat’s bangs from her position on the couch. Her breath smelled like mint and nothing else, and Chat wondered if she’d even eaten today. He hadn’t, so he’d be surprised if she had.

Skipping meals--which Adrien had done several times since Hawkmoth had ramped up his tactics--bothered Adrien immensely. An empty belly gnawing at him made him edge close to panic; whenever he felt his stomach growl, a muscle in his cheek twitched and he had to steady his breathing. 

But he had to be strong for Ladybug. He couldn’t freak out now, not when Marinette was so close to explaining what had bothered her so much. He offered her hand a squeeze.

Ladybug turned to Dr. Pemberley, gripping Chat’s hand so tightly, his fingers hurt. “I… had to… I…” Ladybug started, and gulped. She looked to the floor, seeming to struggle for words. Chat looped his arm around her shoulders, still holding her hand, offering silent support.

“If you’re not quite ready to talk about the issue, maybe Chat and I can discuss something for a while?" Dr. Pemberley suggested, uncrossing her legs. "Is that all right with you, Chat?"

"Yes," Adrien agreed, swallowing his disappointment. But if this would help Marinette, then… "I can share some memories of my mother?"

Ladybug's gaze jerked to him. "Are you sure, Chat?"

"Yeah," he said, squeezing her hand. Then he yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry. Tired. But I'm sure."

He'd shared some memories with Marinette already, and a few with Nino and Alya. But he'd cried, hard, each time.

He was ready to cry again if that's what it took to make Ladybug comfortable with sharing her troubles. 

“That’s a wonderful idea, Chat,” Dr. Pemberley praised, smiling at him. “What would you like to share?”

Adrien opened his mouth to say something, but Ladybug interrupted. “His name was Chat Blanc!”

“Whose name was that, Ladybug?” Dr. Pemberley said, not missing a beat.

Chat smelled salt. Fat droplets spilled over Ladybug’s mask. “Chat Noir’s. He… He was akumatized. Hawkmoth... akumatized him.” 

Chat caught her tears with his clawed fingers, running the backs of his knuckles along her cheeks. “It’s okay, Bug.”

Dr. Pemberley offered him a box of tissues that had been resting on her desk, and he took a few and dabbed at Ladybug’s cheeks for her. 

Her voice grew higher and higher in pitch, her words spilling out of her like a flood. “His suit was as white as snow and his eyes… his eyes were blue and terrible. I… I had to fight him. Oh, I had to fight him, and I was so scared...”

This was a good sign, Chat thought. She’d never been able to admit before that he’d been akumatized, just danced around it before. 

“That must have been terrifying,” Dr. Pemberley replied.

Chat looped an arm around Ladybug’s shoulders and squeezed her forearm with his other hand, squishing the tissues. She leaned into him and covered her face with her hands. “When did this happen, Bug? When did Bunnyx come to get you?”

“Saint Athanese’s day,” Ladybug said woodenly. She refused to look at Chat. “Bunnyx took me to a Paris of the future that had been completely submerged in water. Chat Blanc had… destroyed the world, killed _everyone_. He’d been alone for Heaven knows how long.”

Chat Noir’s chest shuddered as he sucked in a breath. “Oh,” he whispered, and that was the only word that he could say. The implications of him being powerful enough to destroy everything were still sinking in, trickling into his brain like a leak in a dam. He set the tissues in his lap.

Luckily, Dr. Pemberley was able to fill in for him. “Do you know what made him vulnerable to an akuma?”

Ladybug shook her head rapidly. “No, I… I don’t know.” 

Then she turned to Chat Noir and cupped his stubbly cheek in her gloved fingers. “Chat Blanc had… found out my identity. He said that we were in love.”

“And our love,” he whispered, filling the inches of space between them, “did _that_?” 

Ladybug nodded, her face crumpling. 

Heedless of Dr. Pemberley, Chat kissed her on the lips. It was a brief kiss, a chaste one, but it was a promise that he’d always be there for her, that he’d never be akumatized again, that he loved her but that their love wouldn’t destroy everything. Not this time. His eyes were watering, glazing over with pain. 

“You faced this all alone for so long, Bug.” He grimaced. “But you don’t have to anymore.”

Ladybug let loose a soft sob.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dr. Pemberley make a note. “I am glad you finally told your partner, Ladybug,” she said, drawing the couple’s attention to her. “Chat knowing this will help strengthen your bond.”

Ladybug choked. She looked to the floor again and dropped her hand from his face. “I’ve kept this from him for a year and a half,” she whimpered. She screwed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry, Chat. I… I should have told you.”

“Yeah,” Chat said, cupping her cheek and guiding her up to meet his eye. She opened hers. “But you have now, okay? I’m fine. I was always fine.”

Dr. Pemberley shook her head minutely. “You’re not being completely honest with her, Chat.” 

Ladybug blinked at her and then turned to blink at him. “What does she mean?”

Chat released Ladybug and looked away. “Dr. Pemberley? Help?”

“Chat told me earlier today that being stonewalled was difficult for him,” Dr. Pemberley offered, not without sympathy. “You should tell her what you told me, Chat.”

Chat swallowed. “I… I admitted that I resented that you weren’t telling me.”

Ladybug’s jaw dropped. “You resented me?”

Chat whimpered. He directed his gaze to his clawed hands, which were clenched on his thighs. His brain was fuzzy; he was too tired to process that he’d hurt Ladybug, had cut her deeply by letting her know what he _used_ to think. And all because he couldn’t control his festering, bitter indignation at feeling like he was being treated unfairly.

“Chat,” Dr. Pemberley said gently. “You’re in a safe space. And just like you needed to know what was bothering Ladybug in her own words, she needs to know that you were bothered as well.”

Chat coughed into his closed fist. His neck felt hot, and he rubbed it. “Yeah. Yeah, I resented you a lot,” he explained, tears stinging his eyes when he looked at Ladybug and saw tears in hers. “I’m sorry, Ladybug. I… I should have told you how I felt.”

“It’s okay, Chat,” Ladybug promised, her eyes soft and sad. “I forgive you.”

Dr. Pemberley made another note. “Are there any other secrets between you? Or things you two have done to each other that one of you resents?”

“Not on my end,” Chat said, resting a hand over his heart. 

Ladybug bit her lip. 

_Oh, no… What have I done?_ Chat thought, his breath hitching. “Ladybug?”

She sniffled. “When you… figured out that I’d fought you--the akumatized you, I mean--you… pressed me.”

Dr. Pemberley tilted her head. “What did you say, Chat?”

“I… asked her what she thought my akumatized form would look like,” Chat said, twisting his fingers.

Dr. Pemberley raised a brow. “And this was intended to get her to share her secret with you?”

Ladybug stared at him, still worrying her lip. Due to the hurt look in her eyes, Chat’s breath came fast and painful. He was getting lightheaded. He nodded, feeling dizzy even as he sat. “Yeah.”

Ladybug let out a small, cut-off groan as if she’d been holding her breath and had just let it out. “I…”

“That was incredibly manipulative of you, Chat Noir,” Dr. Pemberley supplied neutrally. “And manipulating your partner breaks her trust in you.”

Stunned tears flooded Chat's eyes. He turned to Ladybug. He didn't dare take her hand, just in case she wouldn't want to touch him anymore. "Bug," he choked out. "I'm sorry. I won’t do that again."

She stared up at him, sniffling. "I forgive you, Chat. Again."

Dr. Pemberley shook her head a little. "I don't want to take away your forgiveness, Ladybug. And it's not that I don't think Chat doesn't deserve to be forgiven." She tapped her pen on her legal pad. "But this was a serious breach of trust. You might have to rebuild your trust in each other before you can successfully let the breach go.”

Ladybug threaded her fingers through Chat’s. He held her hand awkwardly. “How do we do that?” he asked, looking to the therapist. “We’ve had to do that before, but can you give us some pointers?”

Dr. Pemberley clicked her pen shut. “I can email you some trust exercises, Chat Noir. If you’d like to share them with Ladybug and pick a few to try, that might help you.”

“I’ll try anything,” they replied at the same time before turning to each other with crooked smiles.

Chat squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. Her smile turned soft, but then she yawned. He chuckled. 

“Do you two have anything else you wanted to say to each other?” Dr. Pemberley said, and Chat tilted his head. 

“I do, I think,” Chat blurted, raising his hand on instinct. Ladybug’s shoulders hunched. “I… I wanted to say that... Ladybug, when you set the rules for us dating without consulting me, and I resented you for that, too.” He gulped. He didn’t like bringing this up, but he wanted to anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Ladybug fidgeted. “I’m sorry for not consulting you in the first place.”

Dr. Pemberley tapped her pen on her lips. “Ladybug, do you understand why not being consulted would have made Chat upset?”

“Yes,” Ladybug said.

“And Chat,” Dr. Pemberley continued, fixing him with a stare, “do you understand why waiting to tell her what your feelings were until resentment festered was wrong?”

“Absolutely,” Chat said, rubbing his eyes. 

“Then if you both understand why you both were in the wrong, I don’t think we should belabor the point,” Dr. Pemberley said, clicking her pen open again. “Do you two have anything else to address?”

“I… might,” Chat mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “Dr. Pemberley, you mentioned that I’d manipulated Ladybug. But I think she manipulated me, too.”

Ladybug gasped. “When?”

Chat winced. “When I… The night I figured out you’d fought me--the akumatized me--I asked you what was wrong. I admit I pushed. You demanded that I leave your room. I was afraid I’d hurt you so badly, you wouldn’t forgive me.”

Dr. Pemberley raised her brows. “Ladybug, do you understand why that would have hurt Chat?”

Ladybug hung her head. Tears dropped into her lap. “Yes.”

“It’s okay, Bug,” Chat murmured, laying a clawed hand on her shoulder. “I forg--”

“I hate to interrupt, Chat,” Dr. Pemberley stated in a clipped tone, “but please allow Ladybug to apologize before you attempt to forgive her.”

Chat blinked. He turned to Ladybug, trying to keep his body language open when all he wanted to do was curl into a tight, little ball. She covered her mouth with her hands and let out a whimper. “I’m sorry, Chat.”

“I forgive you,” Chat whispered, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She let loose a broken sob and his heart twisted in his chest.

“Sometimes when we’re upset,” Dr. Pemberley continued, her tone much more gentle, “we try to push people away in whatever way we can. We lash out and strike at their weak points.” Dr. Pemberley’s gaze flicked to Ladybug. “Ladybug, do you understand now what you could have done rather than stabbing at Chat’s weak points?”

Ladybug mutely shook her head, so Dr. Pemberley continued. “You could have acknowledged that you were keeping something from him and that you were not ready to talk about it yet. An acknowledgement that you still had secrets would have allowed him to give you space to reveal them.”

Chat sat back on the couch, fighting a yawn. He wasn’t bored--far from it--but feeling like he was on the verge of tears all the time was exhausting.

Ladybug said nothing, so Dr. Pemberley cleared her throat. “I am very concerned about the lack of trust between you this lashing out engenders.”

“Chat,” Ladybug rasped, sniffling as she turned to him. “Can you try to trust me again?”

Chat offered her a crooked smile. “Only if you promise to try to trust me.”

Ladybug launched herself at him, burying her nose in his collarbone. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Her hands clung to his shoulder blades.

Dr. Pemberley allowed them to stay like that long enough that Chat was about to fall asleep from Ladybug’s warmth. He wondered if she’d done the same, as she didn’t move for a long while.

Eventually, Dr. Pemberley tapped her pen on her pad of papers to get their attention. “Do either of you have anything else to address?”

Ladybug pulled back. “I don’t,” they both said at once, and then laughed. Chat yawned and smacked his lips. Ladybug stretched.

“If we don’t have anything else to cover,” Dr. Pemberley offered, “would you two like to sleep? We have another twenty minutes in the appointment.”

Chat blinked muzzily. “Sleeping is a natural phenomenon,” he joked, and Dr. Pemberley raised a brow at him. “For that reason, I could do it with my eyes closed.”

Ladybug snorted as she laughed, an ugly cackle that seemed to come from her chest. Chat beamed down at her. She couldn’t seem to stop laughing, and tears flowed down her mask as her chest heaved and her shoulders shook. She clutched at her belly, leaning forward, her face pinched as she guffawed.

Then she screwed her eyes shut and covered them with her hands. Chat couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the switch happened, but suddenly she was bawling, panting and gasping into her palms. She vibrated with raw emotion, and Chat rubbed her back with a clawed hand. 

“You… You were--” she started, and Chat knew she wouldn’t be able to continue.

Dr. Pemberley passed him the box of tissues again. Chat plucked a few from the box and reached under Ladybug’s wrists to dab at the exposed parts of her face. She stilled, and then lowered her hands. She took the tissues and blew her nose into them. 

“Thanks.” Ladybug sniffed. Her eyes were watery. “Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Ladybug,” Dr. Pemberley assured, laying her pen down on her legal pad. “People break down in therapy all the time.”

“Trust her,” Chat entreated, squeezing Marinette’s shoulders. “I’ve shed my fair share of tears in this office.”

Ladybug drew a breath through a snotty nose, which sounded horrible to Chat. “What was that about sleep?”

Chat gently tugged her shoulders down, so she could rest her head on his thighs. He stroked her bangs off her forehead and scratched her skull in gentle circles. “Rest, little mouse. We’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

Ladybug nodded against him, and curled up into a little ball on the couch, pulling her legs against her chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist, still clutching the tissues. Soon, very soon, Marinette was drooling on his lap.

“I’m proud of you, Chat Noir,” Dr. Pemberley spoke quietly.

“Thanks,” Chat murmured. He leaned his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. “I’m… proud of me… too…”

An akuma alert woke him six minutes later. Chat groaned and reached for his baton. He blinked the sand out of his eyes and shut off the alarm. Ladybug, resting on his lap, still hadn’t roused. He shook her shoulder. 

“Ladybug,” he called, glancing up at Dr. Pemberley, who’d remained seated. “He did it again.”

Ladybug coughed. “Oh,” she mumbled, pushing herself into a sitting position. She turned the alarm on her yo-yo off and checked the news. “Ugh. My mouth tastes awful.”

“Remind me not to kiss you,” Chat joked, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Thanks for letting us sleep, Dr. Pemberley.” He arched his back, stretching his sore arms. Then he cracked his neck with a couple of audible pops.

“You’re quite welcome, Chat Noir. Ladybug.” Dr. Pemberley inclined her head. “If you ever need to come back, my office is always open.”

“Thank you, Dr. Pemberley,” Ladybug said, standing from the couch. Her shoulders slumped. “This was… more helpful than I thought it’d be. No offense.”

“None taken,” the therapist assured, smiling a little.

“Bug,” Chat started, also getting to his feet. “We need to defeat this one fast. I’m supposed to be home in a few minutes.”

Ladybug sighed. “Maybe it’ll be Monsieur Pigeon again.”

“His pigeons must be wealthy,” Chat quipped, and grinned sleepily at Ladybug’s confused look. “They have no problem putting deposits on expensive cars.”

Ladybug groaned, and Dr. Pemberley’s shoulders shook as she chuckled. His Lady slugged him in the shoulder. “Gross, Chat,” Ladybug said, wrinkling his nose at him.

“Sorry,” Chat apologized, patting his mouth as he yawned. “Defense mechanism. I’m stressed, therefore I pun.”

“I’m glad you’re self-aware enough to recognize that,” Dr. Pemberley said, inclining her head. “But unfortunately, you’ve put off leaving long enough. Please take care of each other, and be careful.”

“Will do, Dr. Pemberley.” Chat grinned, throwing her a two-fingered salute. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Chat Noir. Ladybug,” Dr. Pemberley said. “And I mean that. Anytime.”

As Chat battled the akuma, the Queen of Frost, he hoped that Dr. Pemberley’s offer rang true. He realized that he and Marinette had a lot of things to address, things that he thought would be easier to hash out with a neutral third party guiding them through it.

Like her kissing him as Ladybug when she knew he was Chat. And his being afraid to bring things up, and projecting his issues about his father onto her. And Marinette not realizing she was being distant and pushing him away.

After he Cataclysmed Frost’s necklace--which reminded him of Lila and gave him a momentary panic--he caught Ladybug’s hand. “Can we… go back to the doctor sometime?”

Ladybug smiled. “Sure, Chat.”

His heart soared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [@sing-in-me-oh-muse](https://sing-in-me-oh-muse.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \---
> 
> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien stands up to one of his persecutors.

“‘There are two ways of seeing,’” Monsieur Legrand, Adrien’s homeroom teacher, began. “‘With the body and with the soul.’ Dumas wrote that in The Count of Monte Cristo. How can you see with your soul, not your body? Anyone? Anyone at all?”

Adrien was only half paying attention to the gruff man. Legrand was blustery at the best of times, and off-putting enough to Adrien to warrant being ignored. 

Adrien was determined not to fall asleep in class. He’d already missed so much of school due to akuma attacks; Dupont was closed half the time now. Adrien didn’t know how he was going to keep up with his assignments, being as busy as he was.

And unfocused, too. He was having trouble remembering names. 

So instead of sleeping, Adrien was doodling in the journal Marinette had given him for his birthday, sketching out a--pretty good, or so he thought--picture of Ladybug sailing through the Parisian skyline.

The handwritten affirmation at the bottom page read, “You are with your soulmate because you are a loving, kind person who deserves true love.” Every time Adrien thought he’d found his favorite affirmation, Marinette surprised him yet again.

He was just shading in Ladybug’s bicep when Monsieur Legrand shoved his hands aside and tore the page right out of the notebook. “What’s this?” the fireplug of a man asked, holding up the drawing. “A picture of Ladybug? Have a crush on a superhero, now do we?”

The rest of the class laughed. Heat flooded Adrien’s face. He had no words; simply gaped like a fish.

“Agreste,” Monsieur Legrand continued, fixing him with a hard stare. “What was I saying earlier?”

Adrien shook his head rapidly. An adult had just asked him a direct question, and he had to answer. He hesitated for a moment, trying to recall the exact words. 

Thankfully, his manners took over his lips, galvanizing them into action. “Alexandre Dumas wrote in The Count of Monte Cristo, and I quote, ‘There are two ways of seeing: with the body and with the soul.’”

“Better than I expected,” Monsieur Legrand huffed, waving the drawing around. “And how, pray tell, do you see with the soul?”

The boy was at a loss. He said the first thing that came to mind. “The reality of the soul is one of the most important questions of life. To answer your question, we must first answer whether the soul exists.”

It was a stupid answer. Adrien knew that. But he was too tired to really care.

“Humor me,” Monsieur Legrand demanded, shaking his finger under Adrien’s nose. Tittering exploded around the class. “Say that the soul does exist. How do you see with it?”

Adrien swallowed. He couldn’t just not answer. But he didn’t know what the teacher wanted from him. He hung his head. He resisted closing his eyes, just in case he’d fall asleep. “I… I don’t know.”

“Hmph,” Monsieur Legrand said, frowning fiercely. “Typical.”

Adrien watched with horror as the teacher crumpled the drawing and tossed it over his shoulder to the wastebasket at the front. The paper ball missed the trash basket, bouncing onto the floor.

Monsieur Legrand whirled around to the other students. “Can anyone else tell me how to see with the soul? Anyone?”

Adrien clenched his fists under the desk. His jaw felt tight, as did his chest. He refused to cry. _Is this what Dr. Pemberley meant when she said not to ignore the signs of a crossed boundary?_

Adrien couldn’t let that stand.

“Well?” Monsieur Legrand taunted, whirling around. He fixated on a hapless girl sitting across the room from Adrien. “What does the soul really mean? How does one see with it? Can anyone tell me, or are you all pea-brained--”

“Monsieur Legrand,” Adrien interrupted, stopping the man in the middle of his diatribe. 

Monsieur Legrand turned to him. “What is it, Agreste?”

Adrien licked his lips. “I don’t think your question is fair. You’re asking us something vague, and attacking us when we don’t give you exactly what you want.”

The girl the teacher had been attacking spoke up. “Yeah, that’s right!”

Monsieur Legrand narrowed his beady eyes. “Oh?”

“And while I should have been paying more attention in class,” Adrien explained, and Monsieur Legrand snorted, “crumpling the drawing was an intimidation tactic that I don’t appreciate. Tearing a page out of my notebook was completely uncalled for, and,” Adrien paused for effect, tilting his head, “since you touched me, I could consider that an assault.”

The teacher growled. “There’s no need to consider something like _that_ an--”

“Are you sure?” Adrien questioned, glaring right back at him. Then the boy swooped in for the kill. “My father’s lawyers would have a field day with you.”

Monsieur Legrand blanched. The man began to squirm like a worm on a hook. “Now, now, let’s not be hasty.”

Adrien didn’t like playing the Chloé card and invoking his father to solve his problems. But a show of authority seemed to be the only thing that would make an impression on the teacher. 

“You were hasty with me,” Adrien replied coldly. “But I can find it in my heart to forgive you. There’s no need to get the legal system involved, is there?” 

“Oooh,” hooted one of the boys. Adrien wondered if that meant the class was on his side, now that he was no longer the teacher's pet.

Monsieur Legrand staggered backward. “No,” he assured, gulping. “No, there’s no need to get the lawyers involved.”

“Good,” Adrien said, and dismissively waved a hand. “Continue the class, if you will.”

“O-Of course.”

***

Dr. Pemberley had sent Adrien an article titled “7 Trust-Building Exercises that Couples Counselors Swear By.” Now, on Thursday, when Adrien was visiting Marinette--a tradition he was glad to uphold, even through all the akumas--he was planning to try a few of the suggestions with her.

No. They were planning to try a few of the suggestions together.

After pulling the article up on Marinette’s desktop computer using Adrien’s email account, they’d had a good laugh at the title. But the first trust-building exercise had given both of them pause: “Let your partner go through your phone.”

Marinette bit her lip. The Eiffel Tower pendant bounced against her breasts as she raised herself up on the balls of her feet. She dug her phone out of her pocket, punched a pin into the screen, and offered the precious electronic to him. “I will if you will,” she said, casting her eyes to the floor. 

“Are you sure?” Adrien asked, blinking at her. He retrieved his own phone and unlocked it, holding it out towards her. “We don’t have to.”

She nodded. They took each other’s phones at the same time.

Adrien didn’t have anything incriminating in his phone, or so he thought. He _had_ texted Nino complaining about her stonewalling him a while back. But that had been a month and a half ago and she already knew how he felt. Adrien just hoped she didn’t scroll back to that point.

Adrien hesitantly opened up her texts. He was so tired, he could barely focus on the names. Alya was at the top of the list. So was he. So was Nino. In addition to messages from most of the people in their old class, she’d also texted Luka, her parents, and her grandmother. And Kagami, which surprised Adrien.

Adrien peeked at the conversations with Kagami. The messages were mostly cat gifs and emojis on Marinette’s part, and questions about various topics from Kagami, like Marinette’s favorite juice. 

The girls had promised to meet up soon, which made him smile. Kagami needed more friends than just him.

He also looked through conversations with Luka, but Adrien quickly backed out of those because they felt more private for some reason. Luka had been telling her about his living situation in England and his crush on one of his roommates, and Adrien felt like a voyeur, looking in on Luka’s life.

Adrien’s fingers twitched. He looked down at his wristbands. He looked down at the shirt he was wearing that Marinette had given him for his birthday. He looked down at the comfortable sweatpants she’d given him on the same occasion.

He wanted to look at Marinette’s conversations with Alya. That would be a goldmine, and would probably tell him how Marinette really felt about him. 

He glanced up at his girlfriend. She was scrolling through his phone, a puzzled expression on her face. She bit her lip and sniffled, and Adrien’s heart pounded in his mouth. _Did she find my texts with Nino?_ She wiped at her eyes, and Adrien felt like a creeper, intruding on her private moment of grief, even if the cause was him.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and opened the conversations marked ‘Alya.’ 

He read the most recent messages in reverse order. They were … sweet. Marinette gushed about him a _lot_ , telling Alya how much she felt connected to her boyfriend and how much she loved him. 

Adrien couldn’t bear it. He’d made her upset by complaining about her to his best friend, and all she’d done was flood her own best friend with texts that supported him. Surely she’d complained about him, too?

He closed his bleary eyes and randomly scrolled to the middle of the conversations. When he reluctantly opened his eyes, having almost fallen asleep on his feet, he read the first text at the top.

 **Me:** I hate her, Alya. I hate her so much.  
**Alya:** valid, m

Adrien blinked. He didn’t know who Marinette could possibly hate. He read on.

 **Me:** The way she touched him… I saw it in the photos he shared with me. It was an accident. He didn’t mean to share those. 

Adrien drew a breath through his nose. _Ah,_ he thought. _Lila._

 **Alya:** she’s gross  
**Me:** And he still wanted to comfort her after she got into trouble. I don’t get it. I don’t understand at ALL.  
**Alya:** he’s a better person than you or me  
**Me:** I hate it. I just want him to be selfish.  
**Alya:** lol that’s not what you said earlier

Adrien frowned. What _had_ Marinette said earlier? That practically confirmed that she’d complained about him. But Adrien didn’t feel vindicated. He felt numb from the heart down. He felt tired from more than just battling akumas. He had no more desire to look through her phone. 

_Not looking is a form of trust, right?_ he thought, trying to justify his actions to himself. 

Then Marinette’s next messages caught his eye. He couldn’t help but read on. 

**Me:** He’s always protecting me. I just wish he’d protect himself for once.  
**Me:** I love him, Alya. I love him so much. I’d die for him.  
**Alya:** don’t die, m, he’d miss you  
**Alya:** and i would, too

Adrien covered his eyes with his hand in an effort to keep the tears from flowing. He felt Marinette’s hand on his shoulder. “Adrien,” she said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Are you okay?”

Adrien nodded, and then lowered his hand. “Yeah. Just… My reality check bounced.”

She stared up at him. The puzzled look was back in full force.

Adrien gulped and continued. “You love me, and I feel it. I feel it so hard. And I… I feel like I’ve betrayed you by complaining about when you were refusing to tell me stuff.”

“You love me, too,” Marinette assured, cupping his stubbly cheek. “And I know you do.”

“I’m sorry,” Adrien mumbled, leaning into her touch. “I should have talked to you directly rather than whining at Nino.”

“We’re both guilty of turning to friends when we should have spoken with each other,” Marinette soothed, her eyes watery. That confirmed that she’d complained about him, but strangely, Adrien didn’t mind.

He kissed her forehead. Then he yawned. “I forgive you. Sometimes you need to vent to friends, but next time? I promise I’ll come to you first.”

“I forgive you, too,” Marinette echoed, and Adrien heaved a sigh of relief. 

“But I am a bit concerned,” Marinette continued, frowning, “about how Nino thought I was cheating on you. Why didn’t you tell me he was the one who came up with that?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. That confirmed that she’d read his texts from a month and a half ago. “Aaah,” he started, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to be angry at him. I didn’t want to throw him under the bus.”

Marinette huffed. “You should have, so I could ask him about it. I know you wanted to protect your friend, but that really hurt my feelings, you know? Thinking that you’d come up with the idea yourself that I was cheating… it sucked.”

“I know,” Adrien agreed, his shoulders sagging. He stared at the floor, tearing up. He didn’t mean to hurt her, but he had. “We were in such a bad place then. I’m… so glad that we’re better now.” He glanced up at her, sniffling. “We are better now, right?”

Marinette gave him a soft, sad smile. “I think so. I like being in a better place with you.”

Adrien matched her expression with a smile of his own. He kissed her cheek. “Trust-building exercise number one: success.”

She giggled, and it felt so good to hear her laugh. They gave each other back their phones and pocketed them. She stretched her shoulders, cracking her neck and shaking her hands out. “What’s the next one?”

Adrien grumbled and pulled his phone out of his pocket, making her laugh again. He unlocked the screen and pulled up his email. “Trust falls.”

“That’s super easy.” Marinette laughed, with a grin that faded as quickly as it had come. “Or it should be for us.”

“Do you want to fall first, or should I fall first?” Adrien asked, tilting his head.

“I think you should go first,” Marinette mused, tapping her chin. “You tend to protect me while not letting me protect you back.”

“That’s a good point, I guess,” Adrien said, frowning a little. “Just don’t drop me.”

“Adrien,” Marinette chided, giving him a stern look that morphed into a pained grimace as she spoke. “That’s the point of the exercise. You’re supposed to trust me not to drop you.”

Adrien drew a breath through his nose. “Sorry, little mouse,” he apologized, rubbing her hair. “I’ll fall first.”

She stood in front of him and planted her feet, holding her hands out. He turned around, gripping his elbow. His shoulders tensed as he ducked. 

“Relax, Kitty,” Ladybug said. “I’ve got you.”

And because she was Ladybug, the girl who had saved his life countless times, Adrien trusted her. He spread his hands out. Then he tilted back on his heels and let himself free fall.

Marinette easily caught him around the armpits, and he allowed himself to sag into her hold. She slowly lowered him to the floor, crouching with him, and they both laughed.

“Don’t leave me here,” Adrien cajoled, reaching up to cup her cheek upside down. She toyed with his hair, which felt great. His eyelids were heavy and his eyes were sandy. His head lolled to the side, resting on his shoulder as he fought not to close them. “I’ll fall asleep on the floor.”

She booped his nose. “I won’t leave you, dear heart,” she promised, and yawned. “Maybe we should just take a nap together.”

The idea was incredibly appealing. Adrien closed his weighted eyes, and then slowly opened them again. “Why not? Though we should probably do more of these trust exercises.”

“Napping together is a trust exercise,” Marinette pointed out, sticking her lower lip out in a cute, little pout. Adrien poked her lip, and she blinked at him. “We never know when He’ll throw another akuma.”

Recently, they hadn’t been giving power to the supervillain-who-must-not-be-named. It was as if by referring to Him by pronouns, they could shake off His hold on them. Adrien resented the sway the man had over him and his Lady; _He_ controlled their schedules. The only way He could be worse was if He were Gabriel Agreste. 

Adrien nodded against the floor. “How about we do your trust fall, and then we nap?”

Marinette smiled down at him. “Sounds good.” She came around to stand next to his shoulder so she could offer him a hand up. He took it, and half-pulled himself to his feet; Marinette pulled him up, too. 

Marinette wordlessly turned her back to him. He held out his hands, and she immediately tipped backwards, landing in his arms. They giggled together, and he nuzzled her temple with his nose. “You didn’t have a problem with that at all,” he said, grinning. “I… don’t know why I did.”

“We both have trouble relying on other people,” Marinette explained, still resting in his hold. “But you’ve saved my life so, so many times, that I trust you to be there for me no matter what.”

“That’s the point of a trust-building exercise, I guess,” Adrien observed, helping her to her feet. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t fall right away.”

“That’s okay,” Marinette reassured, turning around to squeeze his cheeks. Squished, he blew a raspberry at her, and she laughed. “I’m being serious, Adrien. That’s okay. I forgive you.”

Adrien smiled down at her. “Thank you. Now, shall we nap?”

Marinette’s shoulders sagged. Adrien watched her face, eyebags and all. “I would like nothing more.”

She kicked her shoes off, and Adrien bent to untie his. Soon, they were shoeless and wrapped up around each other in the bed, with Adrien being the big spoon. He nuzzled her neck, placing kisses on the exposed parts of her neck and shoulders, which made her squirm. 

He hadn’t had time to shave in days, and his beard was a little longer now and much softer. He hadn’t looked in a mirror for a few weeks, so he had no idea how it made him look. He assumed the beard was patchy and unattractive; it certainly wasn’t an adult beard. Marinette didn’t seem to mind, though; apparently the softer facial hair was tickly.

“That feels really good.” She sighed happily, and turned in his hold to face him. “But you’re tickling me.” Marinette gently grabbed his nose and shook his head back and forth, making him laugh. “How are we going to nap now?”

“We’ll nap, don’t worry,” Adrien assured, resting a hand on her hip. He smoothed it to the small of her back and pulled her closer on the bed, his lips meeting her neck as she lifted her chin. She moaned quietly, sending a thrill through him. 

“When?” Marinette asked, sucking a breath over her teeth as he very gently bit her. “When will we nap?” 

“Soon,” Adrien promised and captured her lips in his. She responded immediately, tilting her head and brushing her nose against his. 

The kiss was soft, sweet, and slow. They both took their time exploring each other, and parted their lips at the same time. Adrien’s eyes closed as he deepened the kiss, wrapping a hand around the nape of her neck to bring her closer. His other hand pulled her hips against his, and he hooked a leg around hers in the bed. 

Marinette held his face, her fingers gently stroking his cheeks. She tasted of coffee and chocolate and cherries, and Adrien luxuriated in the slow pace of their kisses. Her tongue brushed his tentatively, and he responded with a languorous lick. 

Then she yawned into his mouth, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, gosh,” Marinette lamented, flushing prettily. “I’m sorry, Adrien.”

He didn’t respond in words. He peppered her face with kisses, ending up on her mouth again. She groaned against him, placing a knee between his legs and rubbing her ankle against his calf.

Adrien took his time kissing her. But the quiet, leisurely kisses soon grew into a desperate, loud devouring of each other. Adrien bit her lip, and Marinette tugged on his hair in response. He chased her down, plunging his tongue into her mouth, and she closed her lips around it and sucked. 

Adrien was about to bite her again when twin akuma alerts sounded on their phones. They both groaned, looked at each other, and then mutually slammed their mouths on each other again. 

They panted against each other’s lips, and Adrien’s hand slid down to possessively squeeze her hip. The feverish pace tormented him; he wanted nothing more than her, her, her…

But she pulled back. “We--” A kiss from her. “--have to--” Another kiss. “--go--” A third. “Adrien.”

Adrien frowned down at her. “Can we just… not? I really don’t want to.”

“I know,” Marinette sighed. “I know. I don’t want to, either. But the city needs us.”

“Yeah,” Adrien conceded, and reluctantly untangled himself from her body. He sat up, suddenly feeling more tired than he’d ever felt in his life. He couldn’t close his eyes; if he did, he’d fall asleep on the spot. “I should have let you nap. I’m sorry.”

Marinette pursed her lips, crawling across the bed to the stair landing. “Hopefully this akuma won’t take all night.”

Adrien groaned again. “You’ve jinxed us.”

She had; the one fight didn’t take all night, but the second one did. Adrien was ready to cry by the end and actually did shed some tears once the second purple butterfly was purified. 

Ladybug started to cross the street to comfort the akumatized victim, but before she did, she gave Chat a piteous look. “Go sleep, Kitty. I’ll take them home.”

It was a direct order from his Lady. He couldn’t refuse. He nodded, and pole-vaulted his way back to his civilian house, collapsing onto his bed. “Claws out,” he mumbled into his pillow, releasing Plagg from the ring.

Plagg flopped down onto his pillow. “I’m too tired to eat.”

Adrien turned his head to face his kwami. “I’m so sorry, Plagg.”

Plagg lifted a flipper and then set it down again. “Adrien. We can’t keep doing this. We can’t.”

“I know,” Adrien agreed, sighing as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He had to go get some cheese. Plagg had to eat. And if Plagg wasn’t going to go get the cheese himself, that meant Adrien had to. 

Anytime now, Adrien would go get the cheese, he told himself. Just as soon as he closed his eyes…

“Adrien,” Plagg whined. 

Adrien jolted awake, forcing himself to stand. He padded over to the cheese cabinet, swaying on his feet. He staggered, kneeling in front of the cabinet, and placing his hands on the floor near it. Tears welled in his eyes and spilled over his cheeks, plonking onto the hardwood.

“Adrien,” Plagg called. 

_Plagg is calling me,_ Adrien thought. _My kwami needs me. I can’t let him down._

Adrien shoved himself to his feet. He jerked open the cabinet and retrieved a whole wheel of Plagg’s stinky cheese. Adrien walked carefully back to the bed, and allowed himself to fall onto it, bouncing Plagg off the pillow.

The kwami grumbled something rude in another language, and the boy mumbled an apology, setting the wheel of camembert onto the pillow. 

Adrien didn’t even check if Plagg had started eating before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [@sing-in-me-oh-muse](https://sing-in-me-oh-muse.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \---
> 
> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien's carefully-fabricated world comes crashing down around him.

Adrien was panicked.

He’d missed lunch again due to akumas, and breakfast as well. He knew he’d be able to break into his New Stash as soon as he arrived at his civilian house after school, but he still had to walk home, lightheaded and exhausted.

Missing meals bothered him. He knew rationally that he eventually would get enough to eat, that he wasn’t really being deprived, but emotionally, he was nervous. The logical part of his brain wasn’t in control; his hind-brain, which brought up traumatic feelings due to the threat of starvation, swayed Adrien.

On the walk to the Agreste manor--and it had to be a walk; Adrien didn’t have the energy or the coordination to run--he counseled himself to take calming breaths. 

“I’ll eat as soon as I get there,” he murmured under his rapid breath, adjusting his book bag so it wouldn’t cut into his shoulder. “I’m not going to go hungry. I’ll be okay, I’ll be okay, I’ll be okay…”

As he opened the front door, however, what he heard stopped him in his tracks.

“--and Adrien is your _son_ , Gabriel!” Nathalie was screaming in the foyer. Adrien only saw the back of her, but he could tell her hair was mussed. Gabriel stood at the top of the stairs.

“I am well aware of whose son--Adrien,” Gabriel said clutching at his ascot. Nathalie whirled around to face the boy, her eyes wide, gripping her tablet with white fingers. Terror licked at Adrien’s brain; looking at the distraught Nathalie, he sucked a breath over his teeth. He offered them a tentative wave. 

“Hello,” Adrien butted in, ducking his head. “I… I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” 

It was all he could think of to defuse the situation. He was very clearly interrupting _something_ , but he didn’t know what the fight was about. He’d never seen Nathalie so angry; clearly, there was something going on under the surface that had been brought to the top.

Nathalie straightened her shoulders. She didn’t smooth her hair, but she didn’t have to. Her poker face was back in place, and Adrien found he could breathe again.

“Nathalie,” Gabriel ground out, his voice like the snapping of a whip around her name. Then it softened, and he spoke so quietly, Adrien had to strain his enhanced hearing to listen. “I have realized that you are correct.”

Nathalie’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. She turned to face her employer. “Very good, sir. Do you need my help in telling him?”

Adrien blinked. _Tell me what?_ he thought, staring up at his father, whose stoic expression betrayed nothing. _What on Earth would he have to tell me?_

To Adrien’s shock, Gabriel’s face crumpled. “No,” he said hollowly. “This should come from me and me alone.” The man drew a deep breath. “Adrien. Do you have a moment?”

“Yes, Father, of course,” Adrien agreed, placing a hand over his heart. “What do you need to tell me?”

Gabriel actually winced. “It’s more what I need to show you.”

Unnerved, Adrien gulped. Gabriel descended the stairs slowly, as if each step pained him. He crossed to Nathalie and raised a brow before speaking to her. “Make yourself scarce.”

“Very good, sir,” Nathalie said, and turned on her heel, heading the opposite way Gabriel was creeping towards. 

_Nathalie?_ Adrien thought, watching her stride away as long as he could before Gabriel passed him. She climbed the stairs and turned the corner, and Adrien wondered where the heck she was going. Adrien’s stomach growled, and he believed his next thoughts were unfortunate: _I hope this doesn’t take too long. I’m so hungry._

Gabriel stopped next to his son and reached out. Adrien flinched away, raising an arm to protect his face, and Gabriel’s hand hung in the air.

“Son,” Gabriel began, giving him a pained grimace. “Please follow me.” Gabriel retracted his hand and started walking again.

Adrien followed his father, slowly realizing that the two of them were going to Gabriel’s atelier. The doors loomed in front of them both, and Gabriel paused in front of them, glancing back at Adrien. 

Adrien saw his father’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He shook his head, shook his shoulders, shook himself, and pushed through the doors. Adrien numbly followed, perturbed by Gabriel’s show of fragility. 

Nathalie was here, Adrien thought, so there was no reason for Gabriel to be falling apart. She hadn’t gone back to the hospital… unless she’d gone when they were in Milan. Gabriel never told Adrien anything, so the boy could only guess.

As they walked through the room, Adrien stared at the diagonal checkerboard pattern of the floor. His bookbag gently bounced against his hip. They passed the touch screen monitor on its white pedestal, crossing to the back wall, with its two large windows with partially-closed black drapes. 

Between the windows hung a painting of Emilie Agreste, done in the style of Gustav Klimt. Gabriel ceased walking before the predominantly-yellow painting, his hands clasped behind him. Adrien was so distracted by the image of his mother that he nearly ran into his father. The boy stopped, tipping forward and almost falling over before he recovered his footing. 

“Son,” Gabriel started, his voice an unnatural croak that hurt Adrien’s ears to hear. “This is the turning point of your life. You can choose to turn back now. You can choose to leave, and never discover your father’s secrets. You can remain ignorant.”

Adrien didn’t say anything, couldn’t think of what to say, so Gabriel turned to him. The man’s eyes were filled with a manic intensity that frightened Adrien. “Or,” Gabriel continued, “you can proceed with the rest of your life as you know it, being forever changed. You can finally learn what I’ve been trying to do. You can grow closer to me, and meet me as an equal.”

Adrien’s mouth watered. He wanted his father to treat him as an equal more than he’d ever wanted anything. To be grown, to be an adult, to meet his father on a level playing field--Adrien’s desire for that built up like a scream in his throat, a visceral craving. His voice came out in a strained hiss. “Yes.”

“The choice is yours,” Gabriel continued on as if he didn’t hear him.

“Yes, Father,” Adrien said loudly, rocking forward on his toes. “Yes, please! Please show me. I want to know!”

Gabriel smiled a little. “I’m glad to hear that, Adrien. Now, pay attention. You’ll have to follow my actions exactly. After I’m gone, count thirty seconds, and then come after me. ”

“Gone?” Adrien questioned, blinking at him. “Where are you going?” 

The man turned back to the painting. He raised his hands. Adrien watched carefully as Gabriel touched the image. With his right hand, he pressed the pupils of one of the eyes, and two of the navy blue triangles. With his left hand, he pressed a large, light triangle outlined in white, and two smaller, black triangles.

Adrien staggered back as a hole opened up in the floor below Gabriel, and he sank down. The hole closed, swallowing him up, and Adrien gaped like a fish. He quickly set his bookbag down on the floor next to the painting. Standing in the same place his father had, Adrien counted down the seconds.

 _Six… Five… four..._ Adrien thought, tapping his foot. _Three… Two… One!_

He reached up and touched the same spots his father had, hearing a series of clicks as Adrien pressed the buttons. The hole opened up for him, and he sank into the floor through a completely dark area, which he assumed was shaped like a tube. Adrien could barely breathe, feeling closed in. He clutched at his chest in the claustrophobia-triggering tube, panting. His heart pounded due to both the panic he felt and his curiosity about what Gabriel had to show him. 

This was all above Adrien’s paygrade.

As he traveled down, Adrien’s mind raced as he tried to distract himself. _How did he build this without anyone knowing? How much did it cost? Does Nathalie know? I’m sure she does. Where am I going? When will I get there? Please, let it be soon..._

Adrien stopped sinking, and blinked in the dim light, his eyes refocusing in the darkened room. He sucked in a deep breath, having space around him to move his arms. Gabriel was waiting for Adrien in a small area with two platforms--one of which Adrien currently stood on--and an elevator. 

“Follow me,” Gabriel requested, and stepped onto the other, circular platform. It rose into a different room. Adrien counted to thirty again, and the platform returned. He stepped onto it, and tried to rebalance himself as the floor under him started rising.

Once again enclosed in a tube, Adrien’s skin felt like spiders were crawling on it. His chest was tight. By the time he entered a completely dark room, one that he couldn’t tell how large it was, but that he heard a curious rustling in, he was hyperventilating. 

Adrien felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and jumped. “It’s okay, son,” Gabriel said, his tone warm and gentle as he squeezed the boy’s shoulder. Adrien had never heard such a tone from his father before, and it inexplicably both frightened and soothed him. His breathing slowed.

The rustling sound grew louder, and Adrien felt a feather-light touch on his hand. He realized he was surrounded by tiny creatures that were moving, maybe floating through the air. 

There were only a few beings he could think of that could do that.

 _No,_ Adrien thought, back to gasping again. Gabriel’s hand tightened on his shoulder and then left him. _No, no, no, no, no!_

Light stole into the room through a hole which dilated larger and larger. Adrien’s eyes adjusted to the light. He faced a huge, circular, oculus window with a butterfly motif. His stomach bottomed out. White butterflies flooded the room. 

This was unquestionably Hawkmoth’s lair.

 _Maybe there’s a reason for him to have butterflies,_ Adrien thought hysterically, his hands trembling. _Maybe he just… grows them because he likes them. Maybe he’s been inspired by Hawkmoth. My father can’t… he can’t be Him._

Adrien turned to Gabriel. The man was smiling. “Do you see, son?” Gabriel said and spread his arms. He gestured to a small, purple creature hovering beside his shoulder. “My kwami, Nooroo.”

Nooroo looked miserable. He grasped his elbow with a flipper and didn’t speak.

“Nooroo,” Gabriel commanded, “say hello to Adrien.”

The little butterfly kwami raised a hand in a tentative wave. “Hello, Adrien.”

Adrien covered his mouth with his hands. His eyes were curiously dry but pressurized. He knew he wouldn’t cry, because his father had told him not to a long time ago and he still had to hold to that. Gabriel was looking at him expectantly, and he knew he had to say something.

But he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Again.

“Adrien?” Gabriel--Hawkmoth--Gabriel inquired, furrowing his brow. “Are you all right?”

An adult had asked him a direct question. Adrien had to answer. Inbred manners took over, and he forced words past his quivering lips. “I’m fine,” he lied, his voice a high-pitched, raspy squeak. “Hello, Nooroo.”

Gabriel nodded, his smile back in full force. He turned to face the window. “Nooroo, dark wings, rise!”

The white butterflies covered Gabriel’s body as his shoulders hunched. He spread his arms, and the butterflies exploded off of him. Grasping His cane, He turned to Adrien and grinned. There, in all his masked glory, stood Hawkmoth.

 _No,_ Adrien thought, desperately grasping onto the last fingers of his denial. He rubbed his cheeks. _Please, please, no._

Hawkmoth tilted his head. “I feel… someone in despair…” He tucked His cane under his arm, holding out a palm. A butterfly landed on it. Hawkmoth cupped His hands together, and purple energy flowed into the creature. “Fly away, my little akuma, and--”

“No!” Adrien begged, seizing his father’s arm before the man could release evil upon an unsuspecting Parisian. Gabriel looked sharply at His son, and Adrien flinched, releasing Him. “I mean…” Adrien’s mind whirled, hopelessly trying to latch onto a plausible excuse. “You haven’t told me why you’ve done all this!”

Hawkmoth nodded. “You’re right, son,” He said and snapped His fingers. The butterfly’s purple energy dissipated. He allowed the creature to rejoin its fellows. “And you need to know.” 

Hawkmoth smiled gently, laying a hand on Adrien’s shoulder again. Adrien shivered under the unwelcome touch. 

Then the man opened his mouth and destroyed him. 

“I’m doing this for you, Adrien.”

Adrien bit his tongue and tasted blood. He wanted to spit on the ground, but he wouldn’t make a mess in his father’s lair. That would be disrespectful. 

Adrien’s heart pounded in his ears. His vision faded into black and back to light again. He began to uncontrollably shake. Raising a trembling hand and pointing to himself, he tried to speak past the rattling of his teeth. He couldn’t at first, so he swallowed and tried again. “You’re doing this for me?”

 _Why am I fighting Him?_ Adrien thought, an attitude of defeat making his shoulders slump. _What’s the point? He’s my father. Sons aren’t supposed to fight their fathers. If He’s been doing this for me, what have I been doing all this time by keeping Him from attaining His goal?_

“Yes,” Hawkmoth confirmed, inclining his head. “I’m bringing her back for you.”

Adrien felt stupid. His brain was running sluggishly. “Her?”

“Let me show you, son,” Gabriel offered and strode over to the platform again. He sank through the floor, presumably going back to the elevator room.

Adrien counted thirty seconds and followed. The ride through the tube wasn’t any easier and ratcheted up the tension in his shoulders. By the time Adrien entered the elevator room, they were hunched up around his ears.

Gabriel stood by the elevator. He wordlessly stepped inside, and Adrien followed. On the ride down, Adrien wondered how deep the hidden basement under the house extended. Thinking about that was easier than thinking about the 'her' Gabriel had said He wanted to bring back.

Adrien wasn't an idiot. He knew there was only one person that his father would stoop to villainy for. But the boy was pointedly not thinking about that and was wrapping himself up in a cocoon of denials. Acknowledging who 'she' was would be acknowledging that she'd never lef--

 _No,_ Adrien thought, tempted to grab the sides of his face and tear at his hair. Knowing that he had to play along with his father, Adrien didn't move. _No. She has to be someone else._

The elevator played soft music on the way down. Adrien thought absurdly that the song was pleasant, maybe too pleasant for a supervillain's means of conveyance.

Adrien was tired. So very, very tired, despite the adrenaline rush coursing through his body. He was bone-weary, exhausted from a prolonged, useless battle. 

And he knew what he had to do. He had to tell Ladybug. He had to get Nooroo away from his father. Adrien had to call the cops and turn Hawkmoth, the man who'd terrorized Paris for close to three years, in. 

Adrien just didn't want to do that. His desire to bring Hawkmoth to justice warred with Adrien's desire to finally be closer to his father. Gabriel had finally let His son in. Adrien didn't want to betray the man's trust in him. 

And Adrien didn't want to lose his father, either. If He went to prison, where practically everyone in Paris thought He belonged, Adrien would lose his only family. 

The elevator dinged. The doors opened with a soft whoosh, and Adrien stared at a metal ramp leading to an underground garden. The room was large, with an arched ceiling, barely lit by lights along the sidewalls and what appeared to be a beam of sunlight from a skylight. Adrien stared at a window on the main wall identical to Hawkmoth’s oculus window with the butterfly motif.

Gabriel strode across the catwalk, and Adrien followed, as he had been doing the entire time. The circular platform at the end was covered in grass and dotted with bushes, flowers, and trees. Adrien tried to be surprised, but nothing could shock him anymore. The glass-covered, cryogenic pod at the end didn’t interest him until he and Hawkmoth arrived there, and Adrien got a closer look at just who was sleeping inside.

“M-Mom?” Adrien stammered, his eyes widening at the sight of his mother. His breath caught in his throat. He’d known that Gabriel was referring to her. Adrien had _known_ , and yet he didn’t believe it. 

Hawkmoth turned to face Adrien, standing proudly next to the pod. “Do you see, son? Do you understand?”

Adrien reached out for her with a shaking hand. His fingers almost alighted on the glass when Gabriel reached out and smacked the back of his hand. Gasping, Adrien ripped his fingers back and grasped his wrist. 

“Don’t touch her,” Gabriel reprimanded coolly, and then pulled an embroidered white cloth out of His suit’s pocket to buff the glass. “She’s sleeping peacefully, for now, but don’t worry. Soon, I will have Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous, and I can make the wish that will form our family again.”

The smack had stung, not just because it physically hurt but because Adrien was terrified that his father would hurt him further. Staring up at Gabriel, Adrien swallowed around the lump in his throat. Tears stung his horrified eyes. _He has no compunction about hurting Chat Noir. If he knew who I was, he’d kill me. All for the miraculous._

And Adrien didn’t know if his father would continue to hurt him as Adrien. He had physical protection as long as his body being pristine was valuable to Gabriel. But now that Adrien had quit modeling, he was no longer afforded that protection. He wondered how much of a slippery slope the hitting would be. Today, a strike to the hand, tomorrow, a slap to the cheek. When would the abuse be enough?

Dr. Pemberley had told Adrien to report Gabriel if he hurt him again. Adrien couldn’t disobey a direct order from an adult.

Adrien knew what he had to do. Allowing his hands to drop to his sides, Adrien made a decision. “I do see, Father,” Adrien said quietly, clenching his fists as his tears spilled over onto his cheeks. “I understand now.”

Gabriel tucked the cloth away. He turned to his son and smiled at him. “Good,” he said, laying a hand on his shoulder. Adrien schooled himself not to flinch away. He had to let his father think the boy was on His side, so Adrien could safely get away to call Ladybug.

Adrien was going to do it. He was going to tell her. 

Hawkmoth called off his transformation and led Adrien back towards the circular platforms. Even though he was chilled by his resolve, the ride back up to the atelier made Adrien nauseated. He gripped his empty stomach, desperate for something to settle the roiling acid. 

“Father,” Adrien tried, biting his lip as he approached Gabriel in the atelier. “I need to go lie down if that’s okay with you? I have a lot of thinking to do about my place in all of this. I want to help you, I just don’t know how.”

“Of course, son.” Gabriel smiled down at him. “Take all the time you need.”

“And can you please not release another akuma tonight?” Adrien begged, pressing his hands to his heart. “I… I need to go right now, but I do want to see how it’s done next time.”

Gabriel beamed. “Absolutely. Thank you, Adrien,” Gabriel confided warmly, “for understanding.”

Adrien backed up a step, stunned. He nodded. Then he fled, though he did so at a walk, not wanting to arouse suspicion. Leaving his book bag behind, he felt Gabriel’s eyes on him until he left the room. As soon as he passed through the doors to the foyer, he bolted up the stairs, letting loose a choked out sob.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket on the way to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Pacing in circles, he texted Marinette.

 **Me:** I need my Lady in red. Please come right away.

Adrien threw his phone onto the bed and knelt by it, pulling out the many plastic bags that contained his New Stash. Plagg phased out of his pocket. “What the heck was _that_?”

Hysterical laughter burst from Adrien’s lips. “My father is Hawkmoth, Plagg. Oh, my gosh.” Adrien scrubbed a hand over his sweaty face. He was breathless; he was stunned; he was revolted. “My father has hurt me and Marinette.”

“Jeez, Kid,” Plagg soothed, nestling in his hair. “What are you gonna do?”

“Tell Ladybug,” Adrien offered, digging into one of the bags until he retrieved what he wanted: a giant, sealed jar of peanut butter and a spoon. He sat down cross-legged on his bed and opened the jar, stirring the creamy, crunchy food to blend the surface oil into the rest of it.

“Are you sure I can’t just Cataclysm him?” Plagg whined. He hadn’t even begged for cheese yet. Adrien knew the situation was serious.

He frowned at the kwami’s words. “Don’t even joke about that.” Oil stirred in, Adrien scooped some of the peanut butter out and placed the spoon in his mouth. 

“Mmm,” he moaned around the mouthful of deliciousness. The ingredients were peanuts and salt; Adrien didn’t even have words to describe the taste aside from nutty because it was so basic. “I am so hungry. Did you know, Plagg?” Another hysterical giggle bubbled up from his chest. “My father kept me from eating, too. Isn’t that funny?”

Adrien shoved bite after bite into his mouth, until he nearly choked on it. The nuts crunched against his molars and the creamy rest of the food stuck to his gums and palate. He swallowed, his mouth dry. His tears landed in the jar, adding salt to the already-salty peanut butter. Then he stuffed his mouth full again. 

“Slow down, Kid,” Plagg requested, rubbing his flipper over Adrien’s head. “Ladybug will be here soon, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Adrien agreed but didn’t slow down at all. He was starving, dizzy, off-balance; he needed food to calm him down and keep him grounded.

By the time Ladybug arrived, tapping at his window, Adrien had eaten half the giant jar. He stood, cradling it in one hand, and crossed to the window to let her in. “What’s going on, Kitty?” she asked, landing on his floor with her feet spread shoulder-length apart and her elbows bent, her position of power. “What do you need?”

Hearing that question from her, Adrien dropped the jar and the spoon and started sobbing. Ladybug was by his side in an instant, gently gripping his shoulders and catching his tears on her gloved fingers. “Little mouse,” he started, his voice cracking and broken. “Have you eaten today?”

“No?” Ladybug said, her concerned expression giving way to puzzlement. “I haven’t, but I don’t see how that’s important.”

“Food is the most important thing!” Adrien insisted, bringing his fists up to his chest. He tore away from her and ran to his bed, pulling another plastic bag out. Ladybug followed him cautiously. He retrieved a strawberry protein drink. “Here, take this.”

Looking bewildered, Ladybug retrieved the drink from him. “Adrien--”

“Open it,” Adrien demanded, rocking back on his feet. “Please.”

Plagg flew off of Adrien’s head and hovered in front of Ladybug’s face. “Just open it, Marinette. He’s not in the right frame of mind to tell you anything until you do what he says.”

She cracked the drink open. Adrien watched her until she took a sip. “Will you tell me what’s going on now?” she asked again, her eyes lined with worry. “We don’t have a lot of time. You never know when Hawkmoth will throw another akuma, and--”

Adrien burst out laughing. He cackled, holding his forehead until tears flowed down his cheeks. “Hawkmoth won’t be throwing an akuma tonight!”

Ladybug watched him, eyes widening. “How do you know that?”

Plagg paced in the air. “He knows that because his father is Hawkmoth,” Plagg explained, holding his flippers out in front of him. “Please help my kid, Marinette.”

“That’s right, Marinette,” Adrien said, chortling. “He’s Hawkmoth. He’s the one who has been hurting us all this time.” Adrien settled down and watched her. He pointed to the protein shake. “Drink that, please.”

Marinette took one look at him and chugged the drink. She wiped creamy, strawberry-flavored liquid off her lips with the back of her wrist and threw the can against the wall as hard as she could. It struck the skateboard ramp and crumpled, falling to the floor. “Oh, my gosh!” she raged, tugging on her pigtails. “We have to confront Him, Adrien!”

“No!” Adrien pleaded, windmilling his arms. “He’s… He’s my only family. I know we have to turn Him in, but… can we wait?”

“Wait for what?” Ladybug shrieked. “For him to akumatize someone else?”

“No, but--” Adrien said, cutting himself off with a cry. He clenched his sweatpants in his hands. “I just don’t know what to do!”

Ladybug scowled. “We rough Him up obviously!” 

“No!” Adrien cried, covering his mouth. “You can’t! He’s my father!”

“He’s your father,” Ladybug lamented, her voice breaking, “and He’s hurt countless Parisians. We need to confront Him before he hurts countless more. We don’t have a choice.” 

“Don’t hurt Him!” Adrien begged, planting his feet. His eyes darted to the door. Maybe he could go and warn his father, get him to run away...

Plagg frowned at Ladybug, folding his flippers. “You’re not helping him, Pigtails.”

Marinette cupped his cheek. “Adrien… I’m sorry.” 

Adrien stared at his feet. He scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. His nose was blocked with snot. “I… I just…”

“I know, Adrien. This situation sucks,” Ladybug agreed roughly, taking his hand and kneading it. “But we can’t allow Him to run free anymore. I understand why you want to protect your father. But we’re going to have to hurt Him.”

As if she’d punched him in the stomach, Adrien’s breath left him. He clutched his belly, feeling physical pain as a vicious cramp tore through him. He felt sick, and threw up a little in his mouth. He closed his eyes, unable to face Ladybug any more. 

Adrien felt Plagg’s warm flipper alight on his cheek. “There has to be another way," Plagg murmured.

“There isn’t,” Ladybug insisted, and Adrien’s heart broke with how calm and determined she sounded.

 _Another way_... Adrien opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on Ladybug’s bluebell ones. “There is,” he said, twisting his fingers. “He takes sedatives at night. So we take the miraculous while He sleeps.”

A calculating gleam filled her eyes, one he recognized as Ladybug-with-a-plan. “That could work,” she mused slowly. “That could work very well.”

Plagg beamed at the two of them, a fang poking out of his lip. “Yeah, it could. Good thinking.”

She bit her lip. “Adrien,” she whispered, taking his hand. “I’m sorry I was so gung ho about beating him up. I just couldn’t think of a different way to approach the problem. That’s unlike me.”

“It’s okay,” Adrien reassured, squeezing her fingers. “You were reacting based on emotion. I understand.” He kissed her cheek. “Believe me, I’m reacting that way, too.”

“I don’t like hurting people.” Ladybug whimpered, and Adrien released her hands and cupped her cheeks. “I don’t like thinking I’m capable of hurting people.”

“I know you don’t, little mouse,” Adrien concurred, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. She tasted like strawberry cream. “I know. And that’s His fault, too.” Adrien let go of her and sighed. “So, all we have to do is wait until three am when we can presume He’ll be out.”

“Sounds good,” Ladybug agreed, nodding. “Now what?”

Gosh, Adrien was tired. Now that the plan was in place, he wanted nothing more than to sleep like the dead. He closed his eyes, wishing he could sleep on his feet, and slowly opened them again.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I think while we’re pretty much guaranteed not to have an akuma, I’m going to curl up in bed and take a much-deserved nap.” Adrien caught Ladybug’s hand and tweaked her fingers. “You’re welcome to stay if you want.”

Ladybug looked torn. From her flickering expressions, she was having an internal conversation, one which she’d made a decision for. “I’d better not,” she conceded, sighing again. “If your dad comes in and sees me here, we’d lose our opportunity to do things peacefully.”

“Good point, Pigtails,” Plagg said, landing on Adrien’s shoulder. “I’ll watch over him.”

Ladybug lit up with a grateful smile. Adrien fell in love with her all over again. “Thanks, Plagg.”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped. His head drooped, and his chin rested on his chest. He wanted Ladybug to reassure him. He wanted her to tell him everything would be alright. He wanted her to say that his father wasn’t Hawkmoth. 

Adrien opened his mouth, but his words dried up in his throat. 

Luckily, Ladybug was a mind reader. “Adrien,” she soothed, taking his hands and squeezing his fingers. He glanced up at her, meeting her soft eyes. “Everything will be alright.”

“Yeah,” Adrien mumbled, a weak smile finding its way to his lips despite himself. “I know.”

***

Adrien had slept, and slept hard. He’d collapsed into his bed with his sweatpants and shoes on, and didn’t wake until Ladybug shook his shoulder at three-thirty in the morning. He’d slept eleven hours straight, his longest stretch of sleep he’d had since becoming Chat Noir two and a half years ago. He didn’t even have a nightmare.

Even then, he took a long, long time to wake up, feeling groggy. As he sat up in bed with Ladybug’s help, he smacked his lips together. His mouth was incredibly dry and tasted of rotten peanut butter. 

“Adrien,” Marinette whispered, looking down at him through her red mask. “It’s time.”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” he whispered back, running his tongue over his fuzzy pearly whites. 

Ladybug gave him a blank stare. “Uh,” she said, blinking rapidly. “I guess?”

“I’m not stalling, I promise,” he whispered, scratching his bearded cheek. The beard was longer than he’d ever worn it before, and it was starting to get itchy. Having just woken up, his face felt hot. “I just need to brush my teeth.”

Ladybug cupped his cheek. He leaned into the touch, luxuriating in the cool, textured glove around her fingers. “My poor Kitty. You’ve been neglecting yourself, haven’t you?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah,” he spat, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “And we all know whose fault that is.”

Ladybug’s next question took him by surprise. “Are you angry with Him?”

Plagg interrupted before Adrien could answer, hovering up from the pillow. “I am! I’m furious! He hurt my kitten!” Plagg growled. “Adrien has been hurting for so long, and for what? Because his mom’s in the basement!”

Ladybug gasped, tearing her hand away from Adrien’s face. “W-What?”

Tears pricked Adrien’s eyes. He once again found himself breathless. His chest felt like it had folded in on itself, and his throat closed. “Plagg…”

“Yeah,” Plagg snarled, pacing in the air, back and forth, back and forth. “Adrien’s sorry excuse for a father has been terrorizing the city in an effort to bring his mother back.”

“Plagg, please,” Adrien begged, screwing his eyes shut. “Please, stop.”

“Sorry,” Plagg apologized, and Adrien felt the kwami nestle into the boy’s hair. Plagg stroked Adrien’s head, and the prickle of tears felt even hotter. “I’m sorry, Kid.”

Ladybug took Adrien’s face into her hands again. “Adrien… Are you going to be okay?”

Adrien opened his eyes and looked into Marinette’s, making her jaw drop. “He’s doing this for me,” Adrien explained, his voice a raspy whisper. “How can I fight him if he’s doing this for me?”

“Adrien, no,” Ladybug refuted, her eyes filled with determination again. “He’s doing this for Him. You’re just… collateral.”

 _Collateral, noun,_ Adrien thought absurdly, relying on how he had to look up dictionary definitions of words back when Nathalie was homeschooling him. _Something pledged as security for repayment of a loan, to be forfeited in the event of a default._

He didn’t recognize how that was an appropriate word until he recalled the second definition. _Additional but subordinate; secondary._

Yes, collateral was the perfect word for this situation. He was collateral. That’s all he’d ever been. 

But not for Ladybug. She loved him, all of him. It had taken a while, but she treated him like an equal partner. She appreciated him for what contributions he gave and gave gladly.

It was just his father who didn’t.

His chest shuddered. He plodded into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Spitting toothpaste into the sink, he gargled with mouthwash. Then he looked into the mirror, startled by how haunted his expression was. 

Ladybug waited for him to approach her rather than the other way around. “I’m ready,” he said, eyes hardening. “Let’s do this.”

Ladybug nodded. “Do you want me to come into the bedroom with you, or stand outside?”

“Stay outside,” Adrien requested, biting his lip. “Not that I don’t trust you or anything, but two people in the room are more likely to wake him up. And I… I have to do this myself.”

“Okay,” Ladybug agreed, giving his shoulder a squeeze. Adrien leaned into the comforting touch. “You just let me know when and where you need me.”

Plagg harrumphed. “Do you want to transform, Kid?”

Adrien shook his head, almost unbalancing the little mini-god. “No, thank you,” Adrien said, drawing a breath through his nose. “I think this is something I have to do as Adrien. It’ll arouse less suspicion if I’m caught.”

Plagg stroked his hair again. “I’m coming with you regardless.”

“I think that’d be wise,” Ladybug insisted, and Adrien nodded.

“Please do, Plagg,” Adrien said, smiling a little. “I always know you’ve got my back.”

“Always,” Plagg promised, and Adrien smelled grass and ozone. Was Plagg… crying?

Adrien’s resolve hardened. Anyone who could make his kwami cry needed to go down, even if that person was his father.

Without another word, Adrien led the way through the manor to Gabriel’s bedroom, hand in hand with Ladybug. The manor had always been eerily quiet, but the darkness that the house had been plunged into made words meaningless. An unnatural hush had fallen over the mansion, and Adrien--despite his partner being by his side and his kwami nestled in his hair--almost lost his nerve just walking through the rooms.

He stopped in front of the door to his father’s sanctuary. Adrien had never been in his father’s bedroom before, much less while there was a sleeping occupant. He squeezed Ladybug’s hand, received a squeeze back, and let go of her fingers. Taking a deep breath and holding it, Adrien carefully pushed the door open. Relief flooded Adrien’s brain as it didn’t creak.

 _I wonder if the maid oils the doors?_ Adrien thought hysterically as he passed through the entrance, leaving Ladybug behind. _Or would that be the job of a handyman?_

He squinted in the dim light, wondering if he should have transformed like Plagg had offered. Adrien could tell the room was huge. It was dominated by a bed in the middle, surrounded by giant windows, which let in the moonlight. The headboard was a modern art piece featuring circles and tangential lines. Two nightstands flanked the bed. 

Adrien crossed to the towering dresser, and pulled open the top drawer, presuming that would be where he’d find socks--and the Butterfly miraculous. Feeling intensely uncomfortable, he rifled through Gabriel’s underwear drawer, but the search was fruitless. 

Adrien then looked through the wall-to-wall closet, silently sliding the door open. Several copies of Gabriel’s usual suit hung off the pole and there was another chest of drawers there. Unfortunately, the Butterfly miraculous didn’t turn up.

Adrien next made his way to the nightstand on the right side of the bed, steadfastly not looking at the person sleeping in it. If he saw his father, Adrien would break. He saw a small, white box on the black surface, and wondered if that was what he was looking for.

 _Of course he’d be arrogant enough to leave the miraculous out in the open,_ Adrien thought, scoffing. His next thought made him cry. _He doesn’t suspect anyone will betray him._

Adrien still had to confirm that this was the box holding the miraculous. He picked up the unassuming little container and opened it. A flash of purple light in a large ball floated out, and Adrien shielded his eyes, biting back a gasp. The light faded, revealing Nooroo.

_I’ve found him._

Placing a finger to his lips, Adrien waited until Nooroo nodded. Unintentionally, Adrien flicked his gaze down to the bed. Gabriel was still insensate on his back, his jaw open and a small trickle of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. 

He was wearing black pajamas that looked like silk. Adrien wondered if his father would be allowed to take them to prison, or if he’d be forced to wear something more scratchy and less comfortable.

The thought of his father suffering in prison almost destroyed Adrien’s desire to go through with stealing the miraculous. But one look at the miserable Nooroo, and Adrien found himself leaving the room with the box without a backward glance.

Ladybug was waiting outside. Her eyes swam with tears when she saw Nooroo. Adrien wordlessly held the box with the brooch out, and just as Ladybug was about to take it, he heard a gasp. 

Their heads whipped to the left. There, standing in the hall with wide eyes, was Nathalie.

They’d been caught. Panic licked at Adrien’s brain. _This is bad, this is bad, this is bad!_ Nooroo ducked behind Adrien’s head, and the boy hoped the kwami hadn’t been seen.

“Nathalie,” Adrien whispered, quickly pushing the box into Ladybug’s hand. She took it, clutching the precious container against her chest. “I’m sorry, I… I just… We had to.”

Nathalie straightened her shoulders, resuming her poker face. “I know.”

“You know?” Ladybug whispered, staring at Nathalie with a fire burning in her eyes. “What do you mean you know?”

Nathalie’s gaze flicked to Gabriel’s bedroom, and then back to the two superheroes. “Come with me.”

She turned on her heel and strode towards the other room. Adrien took a look at Ladybug, shrugged, and followed Nathalie. Ladybug and Nooroo trailed behind. 

“It’s okay,” Nooroo assured in his squeaky voice. “Miss Sancoeur is a friend.”

The two teens and immortal kwami followed Nathalie into Gabriel’s atelier. Nathalie crossed to the painting of Adrien’s mother. Without a glance to see if she’d been followed, she opened the portrait and jabbed at the buttons on the safe. It popped open with a creak. 

She retrieved the grimoire and offered it to Ladybug. Blinking up at her, Marinette took the book and tucked it under her arm. Then Nathalie turned back to the safe.

“Adrien.” Nathalie’s voice broke. “I’m sorry I ever used this to hurt you.”

She slowly pivoted to face them, holding up a small, blue jewel in the shape of a peacock’s fan. “Oh, my gosh,” Adrien exclaimed, as she pressed the jewel into his hand. “The Peacock Miraculous?”

Nathalie nodded.

“And,” Adrien continued, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “you know who I am?”

Nathalie’s gaze flicked to the floor. She looked back up at Adrien, pain limning her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “You’re Chat Noir. And I am--was--Mayura.”

Adrien could scarcely believe his ears. That Nathalie was Mayura made too much sense; of course she’d be helping his father. Gabriel only knew so many women, so to have Mayura be someone so close to him made sense, too. 

Adrien just didn’t know why she’d done it.

And Nathalie had somehow figured Adrien’s identity out. He wondered how careless he’d been, how his father easily could have known. Adrien wondered if his father would have continued to hurt him if Gabriel had ever figured out Chat Noir was his own son.

Ladybug stepped forward. “Does his father know?” 

Nathalie frowned. “No.”

“H-How?” Adrien asked, placing a hand on his head. He felt Plagg phase through his fingers. “If you knew and you were helping him, why didn’t you tell him?”

Nathalie sniffled. To Adrien’s horror, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “Isn’t it obvious, Adrien?” she questioned, letting loose a hacking cough into her fist. “I love you.”

Plagg chose that moment to speak up, hovering in front of her face and pointing a flipper at her. “That doesn’t exonerate you. You still need to go to prison.”

Nathalie stiffened. Then her shoulders slumped. “I know.”

 _Nathalie, in prison?_ Adrien thought with growing horror. The Peacock miraculous felt hot and heavy in his hand. _She won’t survive there!_

Ladybug pursed her lips. “But maybe,” she conceded, gripping the box with the Butterfly miraculous in one hand, “you can testify against Hawkmoth, and earn clemency in the courts?”

Nathalie shook her head once. “I won’t betray him further. I love him, too.” Then she offered them a grim smile. “I’ve made my bed. Now I’ll lie in it.”

“Call the cops, Adrien,” Plagg snapped at Adrien. “Transform and call them.”

Adrien didn’t move. He couldn’t speak. The thought of Nathalie going to prison tortured him; the thought of her coughing her life away in a cold cell filled his brain and made tears blur his vision.

Ladybug gently laid a hand on Adrien’s arm, making him jump. “Plagg’s right, Chat,” she said, squeezing his elbow. “Transforming would be a good idea right now. That way, your father will only see Chat and not Adrien. We can pretend you’ve been in your room this whole time.”

“Besides,” Nathalie interjected, adjusting her glasses. Her tears were drying on her cheeks, as she wasn’t crying anymore. “You will both need to give statements to the police. Adrien will, too. I can contact your lawyer if you want?”

“No,” Adrien choked out. He scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I don’t need a lawyer. Thanks, Nathalie.”

He didn’t want to transform. He didn’t want to deal with the police. He didn’t want any of this to be happening, and he was ashamed of his part in it. “Plagg,” he called reluctantly. The kwami hugged his cheek. “Claws out.”

The transformation light washed over him, giving him a suit and mask and gloves. Armor. The Peacock miraculous remained in his tightly-clenched fist, digging into his palm.

Looking at Nathalie, who gave him an encouraging nod, he plucked up his baton from the small of his back and opened it. He had preprogrammed the number of Paris’ premier law enforcement agency into his baton’s phone on speed dial for just this moment. He pressed the button with a clawed thumb.

“Hello, police?” Chat started, his mouth dry as he held the baton up to his ear. “This is Chat Noir. I’d like to report that Ladybug and I have found and subdued Hawkmoth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [@sing-in-me-oh-muse](https://sing-in-me-oh-muse.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \---
> 
> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien moves to London.

Adrien’s aunt, Amelie, showed up the evening after he and Marinette turned his father in. He’d just finished giving the police his statement, professing his innocence when his aunt swept him up into a hug in the front room of the station. 

Adrien flinched, a gasp torn from his throat. She threaded her fingers through Adrien’s hair, crushing him against her breasts. The way Amelie manhandled him whenever she pleased made him think of Lila, and he gagged around the sudden lump in his throat. 

“Oh, my boy!” she cried, as his cousin, Felix, looked on with simmering rage in his eyes. The police officers bustling around them seemed to ignore the display, focusing on their paperwork or whatever it was cops did. “You’re coming home with your mother!”

Adrien knew his mother was in the basement. But Adrien didn't want to tell his aunt. He knew the news that her sister had been kept in stasis rather than being laid to rest would make Amelie go ballistic, and Adrien didn’t want to deal with the fallout just then.

“What do you mean, Aunt Amelie?” Adrien asked, trying to gently disengage from her when she pulled back to look at him. Skin crawling, he wanted nothing more than to shove her away, but he didn’t dare. Amelie was family. “My mother is... gone.” 

His lack of sleep made the anxiety even worse. He was exhausted and wired all at once, and though he was on the precipice of collapsing, his body screamed at him to get away.

He hadn’t slept a wink after turning Gabriel in, having bawled his brains out all night long in his bed after the police were done with Chat. He’d wondered if he could go home after giving his statement as Adrien and possibly change his clothes--he’d been wearing the same sweatpants for days--but he hadn’t expected Amelie. 

Adrien fruitlessly looked around for Marinette. He knew he wouldn’t find her; Ladybug was probably offering a press conference without Chat right at that moment. He’d wished her luck and let her go.

Amelie kissed both his cheeks making him bite a hole in his lip. “No, child." She beamed beatifically down at him. “ _I_ am your mother.”

Felix ground his teeth behind her, drawing Adrien’s attention. Adrien blinked at him, and then went back to staring, dumbfounded, at his aunt. “W-What?”

“It’s true,” Amelie said, seeming to ignore the phones ringing all around them--and Adrien’s distress. “I am your mother. I gave you up to my sister at your birth, and now I’m here to take you back. You’re moving to London with us!”

Adrien thought hysterically that a police station was a strange place to hear news that would completely upend his life. “London?” he whispered, a gasp building in his clogged throat. “I can’t go to London.”

“Of course you can, silly!” Amelie’s smile turned brittle. “You don’t have a choice.”

***

“And His lawyers are arguing that he was under magical influence,” Marinette spat as she paced around Adrien’s room in the Agreste manor. 

He was half-heartedly packing his things. Amelie had told Adrien that he would only be allowed to take his old, useless trophies, his fencing banners, and his computer. Adrien wasn’t allowed to keep the clothes Marinette had made for his fifty years of birthdays. Or any of the other gifts she’d given him. Amelie insisted he throw away his treasured sweatpants immediately, calling them ratty.

Not willing to fight his new mother, he did.

But he secretly planned on keeping three small items: his paw print wristbands, his knitting needles, and the journal of affirmations Marinette had given him. Adrien kept his wristbands in his pockets and the needles and journal in his book bag, not letting any of them out of his sight lest Felix steal them. 

Felix had already broken some of Adrien’s CDs, scattering the pieces in his bed. At least, Adrien _thought_ the perpetrator had been Felix. Adrien had never _seen_ the other boy break his things, but Adrien couldn’t figure out who else would have destroyed his stuff--or Felix’s motivations.

Amelie had insisted they leave for London as soon as Gabriel’s trial concluded. 

Adrien would be forced to testify at the trial. So would Chat. He wasn’t looking forward to any of it.

Emilie’s funeral had taken place the week before, and Adrien was still raw around the edges from the service. He couldn’t bring himself to cry then, and still hadn’t cried since, but his eyes were pressurized all the same. Despite being his girlfriend, Marinette was not allowed to attend, as Amelie had demanded the funeral be kept private, for family only. 

Gabriel was also not allowed to come. Gabriel wasn’t Adrien’s real father; that man had apparently died a couple of years ago, and Adrien had not been allowed to attend his funeral. Adrien wondered if Gabriel could still be called family. The man certainly wasn’t according to Aunt Amelie, who demanded that Adrien call her Mother.

Adrien still didn’t know what to feel about that.

She’d had Emilie cremated. Amelie and Adrien--and Felix, who had told Adrien in no uncertain terms that he would never be his brother--had spread Emilie’s ashes over the Seine the day before Marinette had started stomping around in his room, demanding justice for Adrien and the city of Paris.

“They’re saying He can’t be held accountable for His actions, because other akumatized victims are afforded the same _courtesy_ ,” Marinette snarled, wrapping her arms around herself. Adrien ached to comfort her, but he wasn’t very good at comforting anyone at the moment, including himself. He was numb from the heart down. 

“Oh,” he said flatly, knowing he had to say something. He dragged the plastic bags of his New Stash out from under his bed, wondering if he’d be allowed to take the food with him. He stuffed his sense of panic before it overwhelmed him and came out of his mouth as a scream. “That’s… bad.”

“Yes, Adrien!” Marinette cried, throwing her hands into the air as she stalked around the room. “That’s terrible. He’s going to get off scot-free, and there’s nothing we can do!”

Adrien tried for humor and failed miserably. "At least I won’t have to move to London?”

He was hoping beyond hope that Aunt Amelie would be a better parent than Gabriel. So far she seemed physically affectionate, always giving Adrien hugs and kisses and showering him with praise. Her constant invasion of his personal space upset Adrien, but he didn’t dare set a boundary with her. He didn’t know how she’d react yet.

So he gritted his teeth at her casual touches, stuffing his nausea and holding his breath until she chose to release him. He’d be unsettled for hours afterward, and then she’d embrace him again and start the process over. He was starting to have hot flashes just at the sight of her.

She also played favorites, always comparing Adrien to Felix and Felix to Adrien. 

“Why can’t you be more like your _brother_ , Felix?” Aunt Amelie had said at dinner one evening. “He doesn’t complain about going to London, and you can’t get away from Paris fast enough!”

Felix had tensed, clenching his fist around his fork. He shot a bloodthirsty glare at Adrien. Felix had spoken through clenched teeth. “Yes, Mother.”

Amelie had tittered. “We’ll be in London soon, sweeties, don’t worry.”

Marinette quit pacing. She strode up to Adrien and stopped in front of him, lower lip quivering. Then she flung her arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides and nearly bowling him over. He twitched, being still triggered from Amelie earlier, but then he caught Marinette’s coffee-chocolate scent and calmed down.

Marinette cupped the back of his head and ground her nose into his chest. “I’d rather lose you to London than give you back to Him.” 

Adrien smiled down at her. “Aunt Amelie seems pretty set on taking me there, so don’t worry. She has the best lawyers in Europe.”

Marinette let out a strangled sob. Adrien’s inability to comfort her made him feel inadequate once again. “What am I going to do without you?”

“I’m not gone yet,” Adrien whimpered. “We can still spend time together during the trial.” A chuckle bubbled up past his lips, tasting like vomit. “And you won’t need me as Chat because there’s no more Hawkmoth.”

Marinette burst into tears.

***

The trial was a sham.

The prosecuting lawyers of the first instance courts couldn’t find a way to pin the charges of magical terrorism on Gabriel Agreste and make them stick. The prosecution presented photo after photo of Hawkmoth’s lair, the underground repository that had held Emilie Agreste, and the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous, the latter of which were taken by Ladybug’s yo-yo.

But the defense argued that because He was under the influence of the Butterfly miraculous, a jewel which possessed inexplicable magic, He couldn’t be held responsible for His actions. That all akumatized victims had been forgiven for their actions because they were being controlled. 

Then Adrien was called to testify.

Adrien took the stand and swore under oath to tell the truth. 

“No,” he whispered, avoiding his father’s eyes. “I had no idea that my father was Hawkmoth until he showed me he was. He showed me how he infused the akumas--plain, white butterflies--with purple energy. To make them evil.”

The prosecuting lawyer, a woman by the name of Madame Alarie, leaned forward eagerly. “And on the evening of October twenty-third,” she asked, her eyes glittering, “did he tell you anything about being Hawkmoth?”

“Yes.” Adrien twisted his fingers in his lap. He’d been coached to say the right words. All he had to do was say them. “He told me that he’d done it for me.”

“And by ‘it,’” Madame Alarie demanded, steepling her fingers in front of her, “can you confirm that he meant terrorizing the city of Paris with magical butterflies?”

“Objection!” the defense lawyer snapped, standing up. “Leading question.”

“Sustained,” the judge said. “Madame Alarie, please continue.”

The prosecuting lawyer’s eyes softened. She seemed gentle, almost maternal, as she asked, “What did he tell you, Adrien Agreste?”

Adrien searched the pews, looking for Marinette’s steady presence. Ladybug was watching him from her seat behind Gabriel. She nodded, her eyes filled with the calm determination Adrien loved so much.

She was telling him that she always had his back. That she would always be there for him, no matter what happened. She would be his everyday Ladybug, and he would be her everyday Chat Noir.

 _You can do this,_ her small smile seemed to say. 

Adrien licked his lips. He tore his eyes away from his Lady and looked at the prosecutor. “He told me… That he’d soon have Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous, and that he could ‘make the wish that would form our family again.’”

The courtroom exploded in outrage. Noise rushed in Adrien’s ears; he couldn’t tell one voice apart from the other. People stood, shouting and waving their arms. Gabriel stayed seated throughout it all, his cuffed hands laced together in front of him. He was looking at Adrien with such tired eyes, the boy wondered if the man had slept since his arrest.

Ladybug also remained seated, her legs crossed. She continued to smile at Adrien, though now her eyes were soft and sad.

The judge pounded her gavel. “Order! Order in this court! I will hold you all in contempt!”

The courtroom simmered down slowly. People took their seats again. Madame Alarie turned to Adrien. “What else happened, Adrien?”

Adrien swallowed. He met his father’s eyes. To Adrien’s utter shock, the man didn’t look angry. He looked… sad. Despondent. Beaten.

“He hit me.” Adrien blanched as Gabriel’s lip curled. “He struck my hand when I reached for my mother.”

Ladybug’s smile faded. Adrien had told her the details of that night already, but when he’d mentioned the hitting, she’d grown enraged. As far as he knew, she wasn’t ashamed of breaking a plate then, but she didn’t like the effect her anger had on Adrien, which was to make him flinch.

“No further questions, your honor.” Madame Alarie released Adrien to the defense. “The prosecution rests.”

The defense lawyer grilled Adrien, asking him question after question about the miraculous that he, as Adrien, couldn’t answer. He gave careful non-answers, so he wouldn’t lie under oath, though he was prepared to do that if necessary.

“I think the person you should ask about this is Ladybug.” Adrien would be feeling irritated if he could feel anything nowadays. But now he just felt tired. 

“I plan to." The lawyer grimaced. “Tell me, Adrien, did your father ever seem… out of control?”

“No." Adrien shook his head. “My father has been in control of his actions my entire life.”

The defense lawyer’s teeth were sharp in his smile. “Even when Madame Sancoeur visited the hospital during the dates of July thirty-first to August eleventh?” 

“Even then,” Adrien said, raising one shoulder in a half-shrug. “He was devastated, but it was his choice to cancel all of his appointments and hide out in the house.”

“What about when Madame Sancoeur fainted during the fashion show in Milan?” the defense lawyer asked, and Adrien dragged his wary gaze over to Gabriel. 

_I knew it,_ Adrien thought, wondering what other trouble Nathalie had gone through because of his father. “I wasn’t in Milan at that time. I can’t report on his actions then.” 

The defense lawyer continued grilling him, asking him seemingly unrelated questions. Adrien didn’t understand what the lawyer was trying to do, other than garner sympathy for Gabriel. 

By the time the defense rested, Adrien was exhausted. And he’d have to testify all over again as Chat. 

Ladybug’s testimony, however, struck Gabriel down. She explained how the Butterfly miraculous worked without mentioning Nooroo by name. “The kwami can’t do anything by himself. To be active, he requires a holder. The only way the akumas can control people is if the holder wills it.”

The final nail in Gabriel’s coffin was Chat’s deposition. Adrien had told his aunt that he needed to go to the bathroom because of an overactive bladder. She reluctantly permitted him to leave the courtroom, saying that she understood that he needed some time alone to cry. Adrien headed to the restroom and quickly transformed, entering the courtroom again to give his statements to the prosecution and defense.

“Gabriel Agreste akumatized himself." Chat stared at his hands. He couldn’t meet Gabriel’s eye, just in case the man would figure out Chat Noir’s identity just by getting a close look at him. “He did so to throw us off the scent, as we’d started to suspect him.”

A hush fell over the courtroom. Chat looked up. Gabriel was giving him a murderous glare. Relieved that the man hadn’t realized who Chat was, he opened his mouth again. “Those are not the actions of an innocent man.”

Chat knew that if his father was sentenced, that would be the last time the boy would see him. Adrien was actively planning against visiting Gabriel in prison, not that Amelie would let him do so anyway.

Adrien deeply regretted that the last time their eyes would meet, Gabriel’s would be filled with hate. 

So, still on the stand, Chat smiled at Gabriel. It was a soft and tender smile, one which Chat hoped would show Gabriel that Chat forgave him. 

Or, rather, was working to forgive him. 

Gabriel started. Brow furrowing, he squinted at Chat, clearly confused.

 _Goodbye, Father,_ Adrien thought, and glanced away, his eyes filling with tears.

The jury took twenty-two hours to deliberate. 

Gabriel earned a guilty verdict. 

***

“You’ll meet plenty of girls in London!” Amelie gasped outside the train station, pinching his cheeks. 

_Grin and bear it, grin and bear it, grin and bear it, she’ll stop touching you soon._ Adrien’s thoughts raced. He drew rapid breaths through his nose, trying to prevent himself from fainting.

Amelie continued. “And new friends, too! There’s nothing left in Paris for you.” 

During the trial, Amelie had checked in on Adrien frequently in his room at the Agreste manor, so he wasn’t able to escape as Chat to visit the Dupain-Chengs. She’d caught Adrien sneaking away out of costume once, and from then on, Felix was assigned to pop his head into Adrien’s room every hour or so.

Adrien wasn’t allowed to socialize with the “plebeians,” including Nino, Alya, Kagami, Chloé, and Marinette, as they would “taint” him. Amelie wanted Adrien to renounce Paris in order to make a new life for himself in London.

He left Paris on Christmas Eve. Amelie had kept him so busy with suit fittings--he wasn’t allowed to take any of his normal clothes, especially not the gifts Marinette had made him--that he hadn’t even been able to sneak off to say goodbye to Marinette.

Adrien’s rush of anger at being denied all the people he loved broke through the numbness. The rage struck him on the ride over to London, just as the train left Paris and sped through the underwater tunnels.

He was sitting next to Felix, who was wearing such a smug expression Adrien was smothered with the desire to punch it off his face. Adrien kept his fists to himself, digging his nails into his palms until they pricked him, making indentations.

“What’s wrong, _brother_?” Felix sneered. “Don’t want to leave?”

Adrien bit his tongue and tasted blood. “No,” he allowed himself to say, sucking a breath over his clenched teeth. _Please remember that ‘No’ is a complete sentence._

Adrien turned away and pretended to sleep, his fury roiling in his stomach.

As soon as they arrived in London, Adrien was struck by how wrong it smelled.

The city smelled of brake dust and rain-soaked bricks and car exhaust, which mingled with the heady vegetal scents of flowers, trees, and grass. The stench of sugary rot somewhere between eclair and dead dog emanating from the Tube’s seats made him sick.

The first thing Aunt Amelie forced Adrien to do was to change his name.

“You’re a Graham de Vanily now,” she affirmed, embracing him as Felix glared at him over her shoulder. Adrien felt feverish; heat covered his face, neck, and chest. Hot flash. “I don’t want you associated with that _vile_ Agreste.”

Adrien liked his name. Being forced to give it up was part of the reason he started plotting his escape. The second part was because Amelie forbade him to return to Paris for any reason, including visiting his girlfriend.

He didn’t talk to Felix until the boy approached him one Tuesday evening four days after Adrien had left Paris. He’d finished unpacking the meager possessions he was allowed to take. He was panicky about how he was going to build a New New Stash while under surveillance--and then realized that since he wouldn’t be donning his transformation in London, his metabolism might go back to normal.

“What did you do with them?” Felix demanded in English, pointing a finger at Adrien as he sat at his computer in his massive room. 

“Do with what?” Adrien responded in English, frowning. Amelie insisted that he speak English at all times while in London. He didn’t defy that order except when speaking to Plagg alone and at night when he called Marinette.

“My lucky underwear,” Felix snapped, his lower lip poking out as he folded his arms. “I know they were in my drawer before school this morning, and now they’re gone.”

Adrien tilted his head. “And you went straight to your room after school?” 

“Yes,” Felix said, his brow furrowing.

Adrien blinked at him. “And you were in your room before school?”

Felix scowled. “Except when I went to breakfast.”

“Which I was also at.”

“... Yes.”

“So they went missing while we were at school." Adrien tapped his chin. He fixed Felix with a Look. “And you still think I had something to do with it?”

“I know you did,” Felix spat, pursing his lips. “A lot of my stuff has gone missing since you’ve moved in.”

Adrien shrugged. “Feel free to search my room, Felix.” Adrien returned to the Ladyblog. Alya had been covering Gabriel’s sentencing, something Adrien had no interest in but read all the same. “You won’t find anything, I’m sure.”

Felix tore through Adrien’s drawers and closet, leaving clothes everywhere. His new brother checked under Adrien’s bed, rifled through his nightstands, and lifted his couch.

Felix returned to Adrien, empty-handed. His brother leaned into his space and hissed. “I don’t know what you’re doing with my stuff. But trust me, I’ll find out. You’ll be sorry, Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien always liked that Felix called him by his given name. Adrien was sure Felix just didn’t want to acknowledge him as his brother, but Felix not claiming him as a Graham de Vanily like their mother did was just fine with Adrien. 

Felix stalked from the room, fists swinging at his sides. He slammed the door behind him.

Adrien counted to thirty. Then the expected manic cackle drifted up from his pocket. Plagg phased out, rolling on the air and clutching his middle as he laughed. 

“His underwear, Plagg?” Adrien raised a brow. “Really?”

“You won’t let me Cataclysm him,” Plagg pointed out with a toothy grin. “So his stuff is the next best thing. It’s revenge for him breaking your things all the time.”

Adrien sighed. “Possessions aren’t important to me, Plagg.”

Plagg tilted his head. “Just your wristbands and journal?”

Adrien stiffened. “Those are different. They’re all I have left of Marinette.”

Plagg’s mouth dropped open to say something, but then he phased into Adrien’s pocket. 

Felix opened the door, revealing himself and Amelie. “You see, Mother?" Felix gestured to the mess he’d left. “Adrien is so unhappy here, he trashed his room.”

Amelie’s lips twisted in a moue of disappointment. She folded her arms and tapped a manicured nail against her elbow. “Adrien Graham de Vanily,” she said coldly, “you will clean up this mess _immediately_ , or I will have to take your phone away.”

Adrien couldn’t lose his phone. He video chatted with Marinette every night in lieu of patrol, and that bright spot of connection was all that was keeping him sane. “Would you believe me if I told you Felix made the mess?”

Amelie gasped, laying a hand over her heart. “Why, Adrien! Why on earth would my favorite son, Felix, lie to me?”

Felix smirked, and Adrien swallowed his glare, knowing that showing his displeasure would only get him into more trouble.

“Now.” Amelie pointed at Adrien. “Make order out of this chaos, or I will have to punish you.”

Adrien bowed his head submissively. “Yes, Au--Mother,” Adrien said, ignoring the triumphant smile Felix gave him. He had no desire to call Amelie ‘Mother.’ But he had to play along. “I’ll start right away.”

***

“I think I hate him,” Adrien whispered to his computer screen, hanging his head. He was referring to Gabriel, Hawkmoth, his father. He still couldn’t say the man’s name, but Adrien was no longer afraid of him and didn’t place emphasis on his pronouns. 

Dr. Pemberley clicked her pen open. She’d agreed to continue Adrien’s therapy over telehealth, and was only allowed to do so for a London client because she was certified in both England and France. It was Tuesday, eleven days after Adrien had left for London, and Dr. Pembereley had kept the time reserved for him. 

Amelie had surprisingly not objected to Adrien using Dr. Pemberley as a therapist, presumably because she was a British immigrant. Adrien didn’t know why Amelie was such a Francophobe, but clearly she was, and her bias impacted him in many different ways.

“Hate is a strong word, Adrien.” Dr. Pemberley inclined her head. “But I wouldn’t blame you at all if you did. Let’s explore this.”

Adrien sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his wrist. “I don’t know if I actually do. But it’s… been really hard to forgive him.”

Plagg patted Adrien’s cheek. Adrien reached out for Plagg and settled him on the boy's shoulder. “I can hate him enough for both of us.”

Dr. Pemberley’s gaze flicked to where Plagg sat. She met Adrien’s eyes again. “You don’t have to rush into forgiveness, Adrien. In fact, you shouldn’t. Gabriel Agreste hurt you deeply for many years, as both Hawkmoth and your father. It only makes sense that you would harbor some resentment.”

“I don’t want to be resentful.” Adrien wiped his eyes. “I just want to be over this.”

Plagg sighed. “You’re too good for this world, Kid.”

Dr. Pemberley peered at Adrien. “Is there anything you want to say to your father?”

Adrien blinked at her. "What do you mean, Dr. Pemberley?"

“We can role-play if you wish? You can express your anger.”

Adrien tilted his head. “I don’t see why not.”

“You can say anything to him you want,” she said. “Even insults.”

“Insults?” Adrien raised his brows. “I… I guess I can do that.”

“Are you ready?” When Adrien nodded, she straightened her shoulders. “What do you want to say to me, son?”

Adrien flinched but pressed on. “You... hurt me, Father.”

“I did,” Dr. Pemberley said. “I’m sorry.”

Adrien frowned. He clenched his fists on his bent knees, bunching up the fabric of his suit’s pants. “No, you’re not.”

“What was that?” Dr. Pemberley snapped, her lips tugging down at the corners. The disapproval, so in character for Gabriel, was enough for Adrien to crack.

“You’re not sorry,” Adrien whispered, gritting his teeth. “You… you self-important puke-bucket.”

Plagg leapt into the air with his flipper raised. "Go, Adrien!” 

Dr. Pemberley didn’t say anything, but Adrien wasn’t done. “You never cared for me, you impotent sack of toenails!”

Dr. Pemberley looked nonplussed. “I did it for you, son, I--”

“You sick banana!” Adrien choked out. “You worthless son of a prolapsed d-donkey!”

“Son,” Dr. Pemberley said, shaking her head. 

Adrien stood, angry tears streaming down his face. “You hurt me, Dad. You hurt me so much.” The boy covered his face with his hands, sniffling. “And you’re not sorry. You never will be.”

“I understand,” Dr. Pemberley reassured, and Adrien lowered his hands, staring into the face of his father. “You don’t have to forgive me, Adrien. And you never have to see me again. I release you from that obligation.”

“R-Really?” Adrien placed his hands over his heart. “You mean it?”

Dr. Pemberley lowered her shoulders, transforming before his eyes into his therapist again. “You are never obligated to give attention to those who abuse you, Adrien. You no longer have your father in your life, and you can choose to keep it that way.” 

Adrien sat down heavily. “Oh.”

Plagg alighted on his shoulder, nuzzling his cheek. “You can just ignore that ‘sick banana’ from now on, okay, Kid?”

“Okay.” Adrien drew a deep breath through his nose. “Okay.”

A pounding at Adrien’s door made him glance up sharply. “Adrien!” Felix shouted, shaking the door handle. Adrien was inordinately glad he had a lock. “Who are you talking to?”

“My therapists!” Adrien yelled back, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Leave me alone, Felix!”

“Good luck being touchy-feely!” Felix said through the door and gave the handle one last jiggle.

“Dr. Pemberley.” Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think we’re going to have to cut this short.”

“I understand, Adrien,” Dr. Pemberley agreed. “It’s a shame you don’t have a reasonable expectation of privacy at your house. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Dr. Pemberley.” 

***

“No.” Marinette shot him down, frowning on Adrien's phone’s screen. It was Thursday night, thirteen days after Adrien had gone to London, and he missed her more than he could say. Speaking French with her felt good; he was already tired of being forced to speak English. “I can’t use the Horse miraculous to come visit you.”

“Why not?” Adrien said quietly enough for Felix not to hear him. Adrien thought he knew the reason behind Marinette’s answer, but he still wanted to hear her spell it out for him, just in case he was wrong.

Tikki floated into view, blocking most of Marinette. “Because she’s the Guardian, Adrien. I’m sorry, but the miraculous can’t be used for personal reasons.”

Plagg, sitting on Adrien’s shoulder as he lay in his bed on his belly, scoffed. “You won’t even let them have this one thing, Sugarcube?” Plagg huffed, folding his flippers. “You’re more of a stick in the mud than I thought.”

Marinette gently pushed Tikki out of the way. “I agree with her,” Marinette confirmed, and Plagg turned his face away, harrumphing. “Paris may not seem to need Ladybug anymore, but it’s too much of a risk.”

Adrien sighed. He lowered his head for a moment, stifling tears. When he raised his gaze to the screen again, his eyes were dry. 

“Okay, little mouse."Adrien reached into his pocket to grasp the chocolate coffee beans there. He’d kept some on him at all times so he could breathe in her scent whenever he wished. The pointed ends of the beans poked his palm.

Adrien continued. “I’m not gonna lie, I am disappointed that you don’t agree. But I’m also proud of you, and happy that you’re being responsible. So I think I’ll deal with my disappointment later and just savor the moment of being with you in whichever way I can.” 

Adrien didn’t know when he’d see his Ladybug next. She couldn’t use the Horse miraculous to visit him, and he couldn’t traipse across the countryside, even as Chat Noir. He and Marinette both agreed that he’d not wander the London streets transformed, lest he give the citizens of both Paris and London the wrong idea. 

He’d started a rigorous workout program, but nothing could replace the exercise he’d gotten vaulting around the city. His body craved movement, and Adrien craved the freedom of running around in his supersuit. Being denied the ability to act as Chat was a bitter pill to swallow.

At least his metabolism was going back to something approaching normal, which was all to the good.

Marinette gave him a sad, tender smile. “I love you, Adrien.”

“I love you, too,” Adrien whispered, and surprisingly, Plagg didn’t gag at the mushiness. The kwami had seemingly grown inured to Adrien and Marinette’s displays of affection, probably because they weren’t able to kiss in the suits. “How are Rena Rouge and Carapace doing on patrols? I’ve kept up with the Ladyblog, but hearing it from you is always better.”

“They’re fine,” Marinette reported. “Carapace broke up a fight between two Parisians the other night. And Rena is so fast now, she can beat me in a footrace.” 

Adrien nodded. He’d struggled a lot with feelings of being replaced. He’d talked to Marinette about that extensively, and she’d reassured him that he was still precious to her. He didn’t like that those feelings still cropped up from time to time, even almost two weeks after he’d left Paris for London. He should be over that by now, he thought. They were cropping up now, and he felt ashamed.

Luckily, Marinette was a mind reader. “But as great as Rena and Carapace are,” Ladybug affirmed, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she beamed at Adrien, “they can’t replace you, Chat.” 

“Darn right they can’t,” Plagg agreed, puffing his chest out. 

Tikki floated into view again. “Plagg’s right, you are the best Chat Noir the world has ever seen!” 

Adrien gave them all an apologetic smile. “Thanks, guys." He ducked and then he fixed his eyes on Marinette again. “And still no new villains?”

“No,” Marinette said immediately, and then backtracked. “Well, none that have come out into the open, that is. Your father--” Adrien flinched. “--sorry. Hawkmoth was pretty dramatic, announcing himself like he did. If there are new villains, they might be working from the shadows. But the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous are still safe in the Miracle Box.”

“Have I ever told you,” Adrien whispered, beaming at Marinette, “how proud I am of you for managing your Guardian duties on top of everything else?”

Marinette chuckled. “Only every time we chat now."

Plagg groaned. “You should hear him off the phone.” The kwami adopted a falsetto, fluttering his eyelashes. “‘Oh, Plagg! I’m so proud of Marinette! She’s Ladybug and the Guardian and a fashion designer and a good student and my girlfriend! How does she do it?’” Plagg made a sound like coughing up a hairball. “Sickening.”

Adrien grinned unrepentantly at his kwami. “He’s right, I sound exactly like that.” Adrien poked Plagg in the belly. The mini-god made a sound of outrage. “Squeaky voice and everything.”

Marinette’s gaze softened. “I miss you, Adrien.”

“I miss you, too.” Adrien sighed. He wasn’t ready for the call to be over. He never was. “How’s Kagami?”

“She’s good." Marinette told him about how the two girls had gone out for juice together, with plans to meet once a week. Marinette asked Adrien for his opinion on including Ryuuko on patrols, and he expressed his approval.

They chatted about Luka next, with Adrien promising that he’d find a way to get away from Amelie and Felix to visit the guitarist, who was rising in the British music scene. Adrien was very much looking forward to seeing his friend again.

After that, they talked about Adrien’s efforts to escape London. Because he didn’t want to remain under Aunt Amelie’s thumb until he was eighteen, the age of majority in both England and France, he’d looked into emancipation. 

Unfortunately, Adrien had few practical skills--he couldn’t even do laundry, much less hold down a job that wasn’t modeling--and he and Marinette weren’t planning on marriage until they were much older. He didn’t plan on joining the military, either, not that he could at sixteen. 

So he was basically stuck. He couldn’t even afford the filing fee for an emancipation petition on the meager allowance Amelie allowed him, not to mention a lawyer.

Adrien had millions of euros locked up in trusts. Amelie’s lawyers were desperately trying to transfer the trustee position to her rather than Gabriel’s lawyer, despite Adrien not being able to access the trusts until age twenty-five anyway. Adrien would still be the beneficiary, Amelie had said; she would just be in control of the trust.

He didn’t know why Amelie wanted his money. She was richer than the Devil himself.

So all Adrien could do was try to get the skills he needed to take care of himself and make the bid for emancipation. He devoured tutorials on YouTube: Laundry tips. Cooking. Budgeting. Finding a place to rent. How to ace a job interview.

At the end of his report on all the skills he was trying to learn this week, Marinette praised him. Then she sighed. “I don’t want to wait until you’re eighteen to have you move back to Paris.”

“I don’t either.” Adrien moved into a sitting position so he could wrap his arm around his knees. Plagg still sat on his shoulder. “She’s still… touching me.”

Marinette’s gaze softened. “You haven’t set a boundary with her yet?”

“No, not yet,” Adrien whispered, closing his eyes briefly. He opened them again to see Marinette’s filing with tears. “Hey, Marinette, don’t cry.”

She wiped her eyes. “I can’t stand this. You’re so far away and you’re hurting and there’s nothing I can do. You need to come back to Paris right now.”

“Aunt Amelie still won’t let me visit you.”

“Maybe I could come visit you,” Marinette said, bringing the conversation full circle. 

“How?” Adrien blinked at the screen. He clutched his phone in his tense fingers. The possibility of Marinette coming to visit him was tantalizing, but he didn’t want to pin all his hopes on that. “You’ve already told me that you can’t use the Horse miraculous.”

“Just a second, let me look something up.” She set her phone down next to her computer, and Adrien stared at her ceiling for a while. Then she picked up the phone again. “Good news. A train ticket to London is only a hundred and twenty-seven euros.”

Adrien quickly sat up straight, nearly unbalancing Plagg. “You’d spend that much on me?”

Marinette chuckled, her teary eyes narrowing in pleasure. “Of course, silly. I can babysit Manon and sell commissions until I’ve saved up enough.”

A grin found its way to Adrien's lips. “And your parents would let you go?” 

Marinette tapped her chin. “They should,” she said pensively. “After all, they know I’m Ladybug and you’re Chat, and saving the city for years should prove we’re responsible enough to travel around Europe.”

“Where would you stay?” Plagg furrowed his brow. “Adrien wouldn’t be able to host you.”

“With Luka, of course,” Marinette guessed, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. “He has a couch.”

“Which means,” Tikki reported, jumping in front of Marinette again with a smile, “that all you have to do, Adrien, is get your aunt to trust you enough to let you sneak out to see Luka!”

Adrien beamed at the little kwami. He couldn’t believe that Tikki of all people was encouraging him to sneak out. “I can do that,” he said. “I can definitely do that.”

***

It took forty-six days of good behavior on Adrien’s part for Amelie to let him go out on his own. Adrien had told her that he was going to see a friend. He’d just neglected to mention that Luka was a friend from Paris, and not one from Adrien and Felix’s Apex Academy in Knightsbridge, one of the poshest neighborhoods in the world.

Adrien used his chopsticks to scoop up rice noodles at Miss Saigon, a little hole in the wall that Luka loved. Adrien placed the chicken pho in his mouth with a satisfied hum. Luka laughed, presumably at Adrien’s blissful expression. One good thing about living with Amelie was that Adrien was no longer on a restrictive diet, which meant he could eat however much he wanted, whenever he wanted. 

He’d still slowly constructed a New New Stash, squirreling away non-perishable food in his closet. Felix thought he was weird, but didn’t report him to Amelie for some reason. Adrien assumed his brother was just holding that over his head, but he tried not to let Felix bother him. 

“You look like you’ve never had pho before,” Luka said in French, grinning indulgently around a mouthful of beef. 

“I just really like food,” Adrien murmured, also in French. With a shrug, he added more bean sprouts to his giant bowl. “So tell me, what’s it like working as a busboy and a barista for a living?”

Luka chuckled again, sipping at some broth with his plastic spoon. “It’s overrated. I know you want to be emancipated, but let me tell you: supporting yourself is no joke. Making a living is hard.”

“But your music is taking off,” Adrien pointed out. “You’ve had a lot of gigs recently. I’m sorry I can’t come to those.”

Luka waved a hand. “That’s fine, I understand what your aunt is like. And yeah, I’ve had a lot of gigs recently, but that doesn’t mean I can quit my day job. Or jobs, as the case may be.”

Adrien frowned down at his pho. He reached into his pocket, gripping the chocolate coffee beans. They poked him.

Luka reached over and squeezed Adrien’s shoulder. “You’ll see her again soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Adrien mumbled. Then he looked up with a smile. “But I sure do appreciate your agreeing to host her when she’s able to come.”

“Of course!” Luka said cheerfully. “I miss Marinette, too. She’s great.” 

“She is.” Adrien beamed at his friend. “On that, we can both agree.”

The boys fell silent for a bit, both enjoying their dinner and each other’s company. Then Luka spoke up. “Is Felix still bothering you?”

Adrien sighed. “Yeah." He frowned, nibbling on a slice of jalapeno pepper. He glanced down at his paw print wristbands, which he’d taken to wearing in public. “I’d always wanted a brother until I had one. He’s still breaking things and interrupting my sessions with my therapist. And my aunt--our mother--plays favorites, which drives him to compete with me.”

Adrien glanced down at his bookbag. He’d nearly filled up the journal Marinette had given him for his birthday, taking great comfort in the handwritten affirmations. He’d treated the journal as a diary, venting his frustrations and writing things to talk about with Dr. Pemberley. He’d also written poem after poem to share with Marinette.

Also in his book bag was the scarf he was knitting for Marinette, which he’d started once again in secret just in case Felix caught wind of it and would threaten to unravel it. He’d frogged the previous, almost-finished one, as he’d grown impatient with the imperfections of it. But Adrien’s knitting had improved dramatically since he’d come to London, as he spent a lot of time indulging in his needles when he woke up at night from nightmares. This scarf was the sixth incarnation. He hoped he’d finish one someday.

“I’m sorry to hear that." Luka patted Adrien’s shoulder. “Felix is a little craphead. And your aunt is no peach either.”

Adrien smiled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so. Before I started meeting with you, I was starting to think I was going crazy. That somehow I’d caused Felix to be like this.”

“No way.” Luka shook his head. He took a bite of rice noodles. “Your brother’s just a jerk. I don’t think I can accurately guess at his motivations, but he’s probably terrified that you’re taking his mother from him.”

“Huh,” Adrien said, setting his chopsticks down, as he’d quickly eaten his entire bowl of pho. “You really think that would cause him to act out?”

“Sure, why not?” Luka shrugged. “Toddlers tend to freak out when they get a sibling. It must have been doubly hard for Felix to learn to share his mother’s attention after being an only child all this time.”

“And he lost his father recently,” Adrien murmured, cupping his chin in his hand. “So that could make him even more nervous about gaining a brother.”

“Have you heard about the scarcity mindset versus the abundance mindset?”

Adrien blinked at Luka. “No?”

“It’s neat." Luka set his chopsticks down so he could gesture with both hands. “A scarcity mindset is the belief that everything necessary for future progress is running out or becoming scarce. Life’s a zero-sum game. If someone’s doing well, surely that’s at the expense of everyone else.” 

Adrien smiled a little despite himself. "And that’s Felix in a nutshell."

“Exactly,” Luka agreed, pointing at Adrien. “A scarcity mindset makes people think they have to compete to get as many resources as possible while restricting them from others.”

“Which is how Felix thinks about our mother?”

“Probably." Luka shrugged again. “So all you have to do to beat him at his own game is to have an abundance mindset.”

Adrien leaned forward eagerly. “What is that?” 

“A person with an abundance mindset,” Luka said, also leaning forward, “sees endless opportunity. Instead of thinking that resources are being depleted, they think that human ingenuity is constantly creating new, inventive solutions. People with abundance mindsets don’t mind sharing.”

“I don’t see how that’ll help me beat him.” Adrien drained his water glass. “But I’ll figure something out.”

“You will,” Luka said, returning to his pho. “I have faith in you.”

Adrien grinned at him. “When did you get so wise?”

Luka laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [@sing-in-me-oh-muse](https://sing-in-me-oh-muse.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \---
> 
> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien builds his skills in a bid for emancipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo.... I'd forgotten that kwamis don't show up on camera at all. WHOOPS. But I've set a precedent with the last chapter and I don't want to go back and change it, so... Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain! 
> 
> *jazz hands*

“Dude,” Nino complained, frowning on Adrien’s screen. It was Saturday, March fifth, seventy days after Adrien had left Paris. “Harsh.”

“Right?” Adrien laid the phone on his bed so he could remove his shoes. “And I didn’t even do anything to him. Well, aside from burning his lucky underwear to cinders.”

Nino laughed as Adrien picked up his phone again. “You have to admit that was a mean thing to do, Adrien.”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn’t exactly his choice to Cataclysm Felix’s stuff. He nudged his pocket, earning a squeak of outrage which he tried to cover up with a cough. 

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to _resist the temptation_ to burn any more of his things,” Adrien reported, glaring down at his pocket. Then he brightened. “Tell me how your album is going!”

“Oh, it’s awesome,” Nino gushed, flashing a peace sign. “The beats are sick, and the song selection is really coming together.”

Nino told Adrien about editing the tracks, adding layers, and equalizing each track. He finished his explanation with a grin. “I’ve pretty much mastered Garageband at this point, and my parents got me a sweet new condenser mic for my birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” Adrien cheered, beaming at his friend. “I’m seriously looking forward to hearing the new album when it drops.”

Nino sighed. “We miss you over here, Bro."

Adrien bit his lip. “I miss you, too.”

“Man, we didn’t know how good we had it, did we?” Nino said with a rueful, little laugh. “At least you were in Paris then.”

“Right?” Adrien said, shaking his head. “How’s Alya?”

“She always likes your calls, my man,” Nino said, adjusting his hat. “She’s good, but she’s stressed. Her newsroom internship is getting to her. All she wants to do is write, but they mostly make her run for coffee.”

“An internship sounds like such a good idea." Adrien blinked down at his screen. “A summer job would help me prove that I could support myself, so I could make a bid for emancipation. And even if I can’t be emancipated, at least I’d have a job, so I could make money to strike out on my own when I’m eighteen.”

“I bet your mom or whatever could get you one." Nino tilted his head. “She’s rich as heck, she probably has connections.”

“I think you’re right, Nino,” Adrien said, gears turning in his head. “I think you’re right…”

***

“Don’t be ridiculous, Adrien,” Amelie snapped, fanning herself with a pink-feathered fan in the summer heat. She was reclining on a pink fainting couch in her powder room and giving Adrien a saccharine smile. “You don’t need to work. You’re a Graham de Vanily now, and the family will take care of you as a minor.”

It was Thursday, July first, one hundred and eighty-nine days since Adrien had left Paris. He would start summer holidays from school on July twenty-sixth, and he knew that getting a summer job would only help him in his bid for emancipation.

He hadn’t made any friends at school, choosing instead to keep his head down and concentrate on his studies. He was well on his way towards becoming the valedictorian of his class, an honor he didn’t want but Amelie insisted that both he and Felix try for.

“I understand that, Mother." Adrien straightened his shoulders. He no longer felt sick about calling her ‘Mother.’ It was just a title at this point. “But surely the family won’t take care of me for the rest of my life. I worked as a model for four years, so I know how to work. I’m sixteen now, and I think an internship would serve me well.” 

“An internship? Not a job?” Amelie's fan stilled. “Hmm. In business? Or theater?”

He looked at her from under his lashes. “Whichever will have me. Surely, with your connections, you could point me in the right direction?” 

Amelie snapped her fan shut and tapped it on her chin. “I could, but unless you know what you want to do, Adrien Graham de Vanily, I won’t be able to help you.”

Adrien’s fingers curled around the chocolate coffee beans in his pocket.

He had given much thought to what he wanted to do and yet had still been unable to make a decision. All he knew was that he wanted to be a good father. 

Teaching physics appealed to him, as did acting, but he definitely knew he didn’t want to go into business. Amelie, however, expected him to get an MBA in the Imperial College London, so he lied through his teeth. 

“Business, please,” he said, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. “I’m passionate about understanding products and developing opportunities.”

He’d take any job at this point. And he figured a business internship--even if it were only fetching coffee for employees of the Graham de Vanily companies--could only help him. 

Amelie spread her fan open and started waving it in her face again. “Your Uncle Liam owns a consulting business. I’m sure he could use an intern of your… considerable talents.”

Adrien bowed to his aunt. “Thank you, Mother.”

***

“What did you do with them?” Felix demanded in Adrien’s doorway, trembling with anger. His face was flushed. 

Adrien had been counting down the days. It was Monday, August second, two hundred and twenty-one days since Adrien had left Paris. 

“Do with what?” Adrien said as he sat on his bed with a book about abundance mindsets in his lap, mentally cursing Plagg’s penchant for destroying Felix’s stuff.

“My textbooks,” Felix snarled, “for my summer college class.”

 _Oh,_ Adrien thought, blinking. _Now you’ve gone too far, Plagg._

“I don’t know what happened to them,” Adrien lied, and set the book aside. “But I did want to talk to you, Felix.”

Felix ground his teeth together. “What about?” 

“I’m leaving London as soon as I can.” Adrien stood from his bed so he could look Felix directly in the eye. “I’m going back to Paris, and once I leave, I promise I’ll never darken your doorstep again.”

Felix tilted his head, clearly considering this. “What can I do to help?”

“Don’t tell Mother of my plans, for one.” Adrien frowned. “I might have to wait until I’m eighteen and can support myself as an adult, but I’m taking steps towards that with the business internship.”

Felix nodded, his eyes shrewd and calculating. “And? What else?” 

Adrien stuck out his hand. “Truce? I won’t get in your way, and you won’t get in mine. We’ll exist in this house in tandem, never interacting with each other outside of when we’re forced, and... I promise I won’t take your mother from you.”

Felix stared down at Adrien’s offered hand. From the flickering of his expressions, Adrien knew he was having an internal conversation. Soon, his face settled, and he took Adrien’s hand. “Truce. I look forward to the day you leave London.”

“Likewise,” Adrien said, shaking Felix’s hand. “Believe me, likewise.”

***

Surprising Adrien, his business internship for his Uncle Liam’s human resources consulting firm was interesting. Adrien’s official duties were to assist the consultants in “gathering data or materials for analysis or recommendations.” This mainly meant a lot of memorization of HR policies and drafting advice for organizations. 

He also occasionally fetched tea and coffee, and quickly memorized the preferences of all eighty employees at the firm. Much to his delight, Adrien sharpened his problem-solving skills and knowledge of business models while also making an impact on the organization.

And he got along with his Uncle Liam like a house on fire. Liam Graham de Vanily had welcomed Adrien by telling the boy that if he got Liam’s coffee order wrong, that would be “grounds for dismissal.” When Adrien got the order right, he told Uncle Liam that he hoped the man would “procaffeinate on the firing.”

They’d traded puns back and forth for weeks, each trying to top the other. Eventually, they mutually decided that they were well-matched. Uncle Liam even liked Adrien’s wristbands and allowed the boy to wear them in the office whenever he liked.

By the time school started on Wednesday, September first, two-hundred and sixty-three days after Adrien had left Paris, his uncle was begging him to stay and offered him a raise.

So Adrien stayed, working after school hours until evening most days and staying out of the house as much as possible, pleasing Felix. 

Adrien fell into a rhythm, attending school, going to pho with Luka, and squirrelling away as much money as he could in a private account Uncle Liam helped him set up.

Life in London was tolerable.

But he still missed Marinette.

***

“Adrien, guess what!” Marinette gushed, and her video bounced as she jumped around. It was Thursday, September second, two hundred and fifty-three days since Adrien had left Paris. “My design profile _somehow_ ended up in the hands of Alessandro Fischioni of Isabel Marant! And he loves my work! He wants to commission a piece!”

Sitting on his bed with Plagg on his shoulder, Adrien brightened. He inhaled the scent of his chocolate coffee beans. “Congratulations, Marinette! That’s so exciting!”

Plagg laughed. “Congrats, Pigtails.”

“Thanks, Plagg,” Marinette continued, grinning from ear to ear. “Chloé was the one who passed my portfolio on.”

Adrien feigned innocence. "She did?"

Marinette fixed him with a look. “Don’t play dumb, Adrien Agreste. I know you had something to do with this.”

Adrien had called Chloé once a week since leaving for London, along with Nino, Alya, and Kagami. Chloé said she missed him terribly, and that she was working on something for Marinette to apologize for bullying her for so many years.

Adrien had had Marinette email her digital profile to him, and he'd passed the files on to Chloé. His friend had used her mother's connections to encourage top designers to sink their teeth into Marinette's work. One of them bit.

Much to Adrien's surprise, Chloé had primly informed him that she didn't do this for him. "I'm doing it for me," she'd said, tossing her ponytail on his screen. "And for Marinette. What I did to her was… wrong. And I truly do want to make amends."

Now, looking at Marinette's bright, smiling eyes, Adrien knew Chloé had taken the first step.

"You don't have to forgive her," Adrien told Marinette, earning a skeptical look. "But she recognizes that what she did to you was wrong." 

"I don't know how you did it." Marinette was back to smiling. "But thank you."

"Do you think you'll get an internship out of it?" Adrien murmured, turning the focus back to her.

"That's the hope," Marinette said, spinning in her desk chair and unbalancing Tikki, who had been nestled in Marinette's hair.

Tikki floated into the frame. "It's a great opportunity for her. And if she starts her fashion career at one of the Paris fashion houses, Ladybug can remain in the city. Just in case."

Plagg scoffed. "Will you ever just be happy for them without thinking of their duties, Sugarcube?"

Tikki huffed. "Better than ignoring the problem, Stinky Sock!"

Marinette cupped her hand, and Tikki landed in it. "I have no intention of leaving Paris," Marinette affirmed. "As long as I'm the Guardian, I will remain here."

"Except to visit?" Adrien whispered, worried that his hopes would be dashed.

"Except to visit." Marinette beamed at him. "I've already bought my ticket. Speaking of, we need to finalize our plans for that."

Adrien grinned. "I'm all ears."

***

“She’s here, Plagg!” Adrien whispered to his pocket, ignoring the stares of people unloading from the train in the St. Pancras station. 

It was Saturday, September 25th, Adrien’s birthday and two hundred and eighty-seven days after he’d left Paris. He’d had to take a cab from the Graham de Vanily manor in Knightsbridge to the international railway station twenty minutes away. Adrien itched to transform into Chat Noir and dart across London’s rooftops, but he’d promised Marinette he wouldn’t don the costume until he was back in Paris.

The Ladyblog’s comment section still ran rampant with speculation about where he was, and Alya frequently published the results of an ongoing poll. ‘Morocco’ was the most popular choice. ‘Egypt’ was another. ‘Dead’ was not one of the options Alya allowed, as Ladybug had run several press conferences explaining that Chat was just trying to take some time off after Hawkmoth’s defeat. And Rena knew better.

Adrien was isolated in London, having eschewed friends except for Luka out of spite. He and Felix still barely tolerated each other, but at least Felix was no longer actively antagonistic. And Aunt Amelie continued to pit them against each other, playing favorites and driving Felix up the wall.

Trying to survive in a hostile environment, Adrien had thrown himself into his studies and his work. He took college classes in physics in addition to his schooling at the academy and his internship at Uncle Liam’s consulting firm. He was busy, and that alone eased the pang of loneliness. 

But none of that mattered now.

Marinette had finally come.

Adrien, holding a helium balloon and a giant sign with her name inscribed in fancy lettering, could barely stand still. He vibrated with excitement, the pink scarf he’d knitted for her wrapped around his neck despite the sweltering day. 

There were several works of art on public display at St Pancras station. Adrien’s favorite was _The Meeting Place_ , a nine-meter tall bronze statue of a couple locked in an amorous embrace. The artist, Paul Day, intended to evoke “the romance of travel.”

Adrien just liked it because he was about to embrace his Lady.

Plagg’s voice floated up from his pocket. “Keep your pants on, Kid.”

The rush of people unloading from the train slowed to a trickle. Adrien stood on his tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd. Due to a spring growth spurt last year, he was roughly six feet tall, but there were a lot of people in his way. 

Marinette didn’t seem to be there. Adrien wilted. “Maybe she didn’t save up enough for the train ticket? Maybe her parents didn’t let her go?” he whispered to his pocket, closing his eyes as tears stung them. He wanted to reach into his suit’s pocket to pick up his chocolate coffee beans and breathe in her scent, but his hands were full. “Maybe she… changed her mind?”

“Kid…” Plagg said, trailing off. 

Adrien sniffed. “It’s okay, Plagg,” he lied. “I mean, it’ll be okay, I’ll just call her and find out what happened, and--”

Someone tackled him, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped, feeling nausea punch him in the throat. _Run!_ his brain screamed at him. But he stayed rooted to the spot, not wanting to hurt whomever had jumped on him.

“Adrien!” Marinette called, and his eyes snapped open to see his beaming Lady. He smelled the scents of coffee and chocolate and instantly calmed. Something dug into his chest, and he recognized it as Marinette’s Eiffel Tower pendant.

She’d left her hair down, and he noticed that she’d allowed the inky strands to grow out, so they reached her shoulder blades. He checked her pinky. She was still wearing the ring he’d bought her for her birthday. “I’m here!”

“Marinette!” Adrien accidentally let go of the balloon in his excitement. He dropped the sign to pick her up and swing her around. “Oh, my gosh, it’s so good to see you!”

She giggled, and that laugh was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He cupped the back of her head, threading his fingers through her gorgeous hair, and kissed her deeply.

Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, her foot popping up. Adrien tugged her closer, pressing a hand on the small of her back underneath the backpack she was wearing. They smiled against each other’s mouths, and then burst into giddy laughter, leaning on one another. 

“As much as I want to kiss you,” he whispered, chuckling, “I think we’re smiling too much.” 

“I agree,” Marinette said, cupping his clean-shaven cheeks and smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones, as if tracing his mask. He leaned into the comforting touch. “Plus, we’re in public.”

“Pish posh, the public can stand to be shown more love.” Adrien waggled his brows. Marinette giggled again, stepping back, and he beamed at her. He bent to pick up his sign. “I think Luka’s already waiting for us at Miss Saigon.”

Marinette bounced on the balls of her feet. “I love pho!”

“I love you,” Adrien said, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. “And I missed you so much.”

Marinette’s eyes softened. “I missed you, too, Adrien.”

Plagg’s whisper floated up from Adrien’s pocket again. “Did you bring Sugarcube?”

“Yes!” Tikki spat from Marinette’s open purse. “Why wouldn’t she have, Stinky Sock?”

“Just checking.” Plagg grinned, and Adrien laughed. The kwami phased out of Adrien's pocket and into Marinette's purse, presumably to catch up with Tikki.

“Here.” Adrien transferred the pink scarf from his neck to Marinette’s. “This is for you.”

“It’s beautiful, Adrien, thank you!” Marinette gushed and picked up the end of the scarf to examine the stitching. “You… made this?”

Adrien winced. “Is it bad?”

“No,” Marinette breathed. “It’s gorgeous!” Her eyes widened as she ran her fingers along the fringe of the scarf. “I didn’t know you’d learned to knit!”

Then she gave him a look. “This is not a beginner project. How many times did you frog it?”

Adrien bit his lip. “Five?”

Marinette shrieked, hurting his enhanced hearing. “This is only your sixth try?!”

“Yes?”

She bounced on the balls on her feet. “Thank you, Adrien, thank you so much! I love it!”

Adrien stared at her, stunned. “You…” He choked out. He swallowed and tried again. “You like something I made even though it’s not perfect?”

Marinette stilled, eyes wide. Then she cupped his clean-shaven cheek and rubbed her nose on his. “I like it even _better_. I know how much work goes into a scarf. How much time and effort. And that you made this one for me--and gave it to me despite knowing it wasn’t perfect--just makes me…” She leaned back and smiled at him. “Happy, Adrien. I’m happy.”

Adrien’s hands trembled at his sides. He sniffled, feeling overwhelmed by raw emotion. He didn’t know why her admission was hitting him so hard. 

It’s not that he didn’t expect her to like it. He knew she would. But knowing she’d sing her praises of something he’d made--even when it wasn’t perfect--and hearing her do so were two entirely different things. 

He'd always been expected to be perfect. Look perfectly. Act perfectly. _Breathe_ perfectly. Even now, under Amelie’s thumb, those requirements hadn’t been lifted. 

Adrien Agreste had been perfect. So Adrien Graham de Vanily was now.

That Marinette had no expectations of perfection and loved him anyway--and had not only forgiven him of his faults but _celebrated_ them--made him want to simultaneously laugh and cry.

He couldn’t stay there any longer. Not without breaking down into happy tears. 

Besides, Luka was waiting for them, and Adrien couldn't be a mess in front of Luka.

Without another word, Adrien took Marinette’s hand and led her out of the train station. By the time they reached the street and hailed a cab, they were arm in arm. Once inside the taxi, they couldn’t stop touching each other: she squeezed his shoulder; he squeezed her fingers. She kissed his cheek; he wrapped an arm around her waist. She leaned her head on his collarbone; he rested his fingers on her hip.

They fit together perfectly; dark and light, destruction and creation, yin and yang.

On the ride to Miss Saigon, Marinette filled Adrien in on everything her parents and their friends had been up to, trying new recipes and new songs and new phone apps. She told him all about her commission work and her back and forth with the designers at Isabel Marant. 

Adrien had heard most of the news before, but listening to Marinette in person was so much better than speaking to her over video chat. Her eyes lit up and she gesticulated and leaned in and out of his space. He took her hands in his, breathing in her chocolate-coffee scent.

Coffee beans were no substitute for the real thing.

“And Nino has a new album out--I know he sent you the files, but he’s so excited about dropping the beats.” Marinette waved his and her hands around as if unable to contain the giddy movements. “And Alya has an internship in a real newsroom! She mostly does coffee runs, but she’s working on getting assigned puff pieces. She’s working her way up!”

Adrien couldn’t stop smiling. “And Kagami?”

“Kagami is well,” Marinette said, her grin wide. “We meet for lunch all the time now, and she’s teaching me how to paint. Ryuuko has joined Ladybug on patrol and is a valuable member of the team.” 

“And Nooroo?”

Marinette’s smile softened. “Happy with his friends.”

Right as the taxi pulled up to the restaurant, Adrien pressed a kiss to Marinette’s wrist, maintaining eye contact as his lips remained on her skin. She flushed intensely, the deep scarlet coloring a staunch contrast to her bright, bluebell eyes. She parted her lips, letting loose a quiet, “Oh!”

Adrien paid the cab fare and opened her door for her. He offered his hand. Marinette took it and stepped out, her cheeks still a lovely shade of dusky rose.

Luka was waiting for them at a table, perusing the menu. He stood, and gave Marinette _bisous_ \--French air cheek kisses. “It’s good to see you, Marinette,” he enthused. Then he blinked. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”

“I’m fine!” Marinette squeaked, and Adrien smirked.

For Luka’s sake, Adrien restrained himself from touching Marinette during lunch. He realized that he wouldn’t be able to touch her for most of her visit, which made him sulk.

He wouldn't be able to see her off at the train tomorrow because he'd be at work shortly after breakfast. But he trusted Luka to take care of her. Besides, Marinette wanted to spend some time with Luka, who was still her friend, and Adrien couldn't begrudge her that.

She spoke animatedly to Luka, gesturing with her hands and shoulders. She beamed, her smile bright and her eyes dancing, which soothed Adrien’s pouty heart.

“And Juleka says hi, of course,” Marinette reported as the waiter set her bowl of pho down in front of her. Adrien and Luka already had theirs, and all three of them dug in. “You should see her, Luka! She’s grown so beautiful.”

Luka smiled, a slice of beef in his chopsticks. “Juleka was always beautiful. How’s the Captain?”

Marinette told him, filling him in on Anarka’s antics. Kitty Section stiil hadn’t replaced either Luka or Adrien, which made Adrien sad. He had hoped that the band would have moved on. 

As expected, Adrien finished his pho first, having always eaten quickly ever since he’d starved a year and a half ago. Thinking about food always made him reconsider his New New Stash, which he’d already told Marinette about. Most of the hiding places for his caches of food hadn't been discovered; once, a maid found some and asked him about it, and he'd had to beg her not to tell Amelie.

The three friends paid for their meals, and then Luka gave Marinette and Adrien a tour of London. Adrien hadn’t explored the city much since arriving, which was clearly a mistake. 

He couldn’t help but compare London to Paris. The streets were narrow, though some, like Fleet Street along the river, were larger. The city was cold in September, but the underground was broiling hot. 

Adrien, Luka, and Marinette started their tour with Buckingham Palace. It was afternoon already, so they didn’t get to see the Changing of the Guard, but Marinette pulled her sketchbook out of her backpack and committed the Palace to paper.

They next headed down the Mall towards Trafalgar Square, home to Nelson’s Column. They popped by the National Gallery art museum, spending about an hour there so Marinette could sketch some of the more prominent pieces.

Next was Whitehall, just outside Downing Street before the Cenotaph. Adrien joked about how they could see the Prime Minister if they just waited long enough, and Luka and Marinette laughed.

The rest of the tour passed in a blur. They visited the Tower with its ravens and all the royal grounds, where Marinette sketched Fortnum and Mason and every statue they saw. They finished their jaunt around London by taking an open-top sightseeing bus to the Tower Bridge and back, passing famous landmarks like Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, the Churchill War Rooms, and the Horse Guards.

Adrien and Marinette enjoyed dinner together at a classic English pub, where Luka played his guitar and sang at the open mic.

Soon, though, too soon for Adrien, the joy-packed visit was over, and he had to return to the cold and lonely Graham de Vanily manor. He lingered with Marinette on the banks of the Thames, and Luka stood aways off, talking on the phone to one of his roommates and giving Adrien and Marinette a modicum of privacy. 

“Happy birthday, Adrien,” Marinette murmured, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his lips that was over far too quickly for his comfort. Her eyes glittered as she shifted her backpack to her front and opened it, pulling out a medium-sized, neon-green wrapped package. 

Adrien perked up. “Thank you, little mouse.” He grinned as he tore into the paper. She’d knitted him a black beanie cap with cat ears. He laughed and put it on. “This is amazing! I love it,” he gushed, and then blinked back sudden, unexpected tears. “I miss being Chat.”

Adrien missed his transformation like burning. 

Adrien missed the freedom to go anywhere he desired, using his muscles to propel him over the skyline of the city of Paris. He missed the ability to run around on all fours, getting the exercise he craved. Adrien missed the super strength, the ability to pick Marinette up and kiss her senseless on their shared rooftop.

He missed inhaling Marinette’s scent with his enhanced senses. He missed eating, where the flavors would explode on his tongue. Adrien even missed akuma battles, fighting side by side with his Lady and the quick thinking and enhanced reflexes combat required of him.

He just… missed it. He missed it all. 

He sniffled, and Marinette kissed his cheek again. “I know. I’m sorry, Adrien. I miss you being Chat, too.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Her smile turned sad. “Paris isn’t the same without Chat Noir.”

Adrien sighed. He didn’t have much to say after that. He wanted to change the topic. 

Luckily, Marinette was a mind-reader. She traced a finger down his chest, looking at him under her lashes. The look jump-started his heart and set it to pounding. “What’s it like being seventeen?”

“It’s not that much different from sixteen,” Adrien said, shrugging. The breeze blew his cat ears. “But I wish I were eighteen instead.”

“I can’t wait,” Marinette whispered, nuzzling his cheek with her nose. “Come back to me?”

Adrien’s kiss was a promise. “Always.”

***

Christmas Eve at the Graham de Vanily manor was a monumental affair, with everyone in attendance dressed to the nines and the house groaning with decorations. Amelie passed Adrien around to the various family members, introducing him as her favorite son. After dinner--a massive feast with roasted turkey, duck confit, glazed ham, roast beef, balsamic cranberry chicken, and all manner of sides fit for a kingdom--Adrien privately apologized to Felix for their mother’s actions, mollifying him.

It was the three-hundred and sixty-fifth day Adrien had been in London, one year exactly, and he was tired. So very, very tired. He wanted nothing more than to be back in Paris, sharing a Christmas with his Lady and his friends. Adrien was not allowed to wear his wristbands or his beanie to the holiday party. Instead, he was forced to dress in a stifling three-piece suit with a fancy watch that was so very unlike him he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

The one bright spot of the party was his Uncle Liam.

“Adrien, my boy!” Liam Graham de Vanily gushed, rosy in the cheeks from alcohol and joy. Liam held two full glasses of red wine in his hands, and Adrien wondered if the man was planning on drinking them both. “Are you passing out presents tomorrow? Are you going to be one of Santa’s helpers?”

“Santa’s helpers?” Adrien grinned. “You mean subordinate Clauses?”

Uncle Liam threw his head back and laughed boisterously. “I don’t know, that pun makes me Claustrophobic.”

“But wait, there’s myrrh!” Adrien held up a finger. “Why does Santa Claus choose to use chimneys as his means of entering houses?”

Liam’s eyes sparkled. “Why?”

“Because it soots him,” Adrien deadpanned, and Liam cackled, tears pouring down his reddened face. The jokes reminded Adrien of being Chat, slinging puns in battle as a defense mechanism, but he stuffed those feelings before they could swallow him whole. 

“Very good, Adrien, very good.” Liam gestured with one of the glasses and almost spilled the contents. “How do you think we should approach the Bennet client?”

The Bennet client was huge, having purchased a great number of consulting hours from Liam's HR firm. That Uncle Liam was trusting Adrien for advice on such an important client was heartening--and intimidating. Adrien knew he had to give a smart answer, so he thought carefully about what the client's problem was.

“The Bennet client gave their employees the survey we recommended,” Adrien said, tapping his chin, “and received disappointing results about employee satisfaction, explaining their high turnover. So I think the next step is to develop compensation strategies that align with their overall business goals. The client can also offer training classes to develop their people in areas such as business communication and leadership, especially for their managers.”

"Good, good.” Liam nodded soberly. He was all business now, puns entirely forgotten. "And how else can we help them?"

Adrien didn't hesitate. "We can give the client tools to improve their performance-related feedback and evaluation of their teams, making their employees work smarter.” 

Liam thrust one of the wine glasses into Adrien's hands and slapped him on the back, nearly bowling him over. "Excellent, my boy! I'll make a consultant out of you yet!" 

Adrien tried to hand the glass back to Liam, but his uncle shook his head. "No, no, that's for you," Liam said. "Drink up, you've earned it!"

"Uncle Liam," Adrien said, blinking up at the huge man. "I'm seventeen. My mother--"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." Liam chuckled. "And your first drink at seventeen is practically a Graham de Vanily tradition. Go on. Don't wine at me, boy. Or, rather, do."

Adrien grinned. "Grape minds think alike?" 

"Exactly." Liam’s eyes twinkled. "Try it. You'll like it."

Adrien obediently took a sip.

The red wine felt thick in his mouth, like whole milk. His lips puckered with the sourness, drying out with bitter notes of violets, blueberry, earth, black olives, and coffee.

Adrien had always thought his first taste of wine would be with his father. Gabriel was a connoisseur, often enjoying after-dinner drinks with Emilie. Twelve-year-old Adrien was permitted to smell the wine and try to guess the notes. He treasured those memories like the precious jewels they were, letting them take up residence behind his breastbone.

And now his mother was dead--truly dead--and his father was in prison.

He hadn’t allowed himself to think of his parents in two hundred and seventy-two days. The stark contrast of how things were compared to how they used to be closed his throat and brought tears to his eyes. Memories--good ones, bad ones; ones where he was buoyed by joy and ones where he was smothered by grief--flooded his heart, and he held his breath. He choked down his next sip of wine, wondering if a single glass was enough to get him well and truly drunk. 

"Well?" Liam said, grinning down at Adrien with bright white teeth. "How is it?"

Adrien gave his uncle a thumbs up. "It’s good,” he choked out, recovering himself. He was at a party. He was supposed to enjoy himself. “Thanks, Uncle Liam.”

“You’re welcome, son,” Liam cheered, and Adrien choked again. 

Tom Dupain used to call him son. A yawning pit opened up inside Adrien’s soul as he yearned to taste Sabine’s lasagna. He wanted to see his adopted family again and play Le Donjon and taste wine with them rather than an uncle from a family he’d barely gotten to know.

And Adrien wanted Marinette. He wanted to hold her shoulders, to cup her cheeks, to bear her burdens. He’d only been able to kiss her once or twice in an entire year, and the painful lack of her lips on his own was too much to bear.

He reached his hand into his pocket to wrap his fingers around the chocolate coffee beans. They poked his palm, bringing him some comfort. He wished he could smell them, but that would be inappropriate at his _mother’s_ Christmas Eve party.

Liam threw an arm around Adrien’s shoulders, jolting him out of his misery. Adrien disengaged immediately, which Liam let pass without comment but a raised brow.

“Listen, my boy,” his uncle said, indulging in his wine glass. “I’ve got plans for you. Big plans.”

“Plans, Uncle Liam?” Adrien sighed. Uncle Liam was just one more person Adrien would have to disappoint when he returned to Paris. Because he was returning to Paris. He was determined now more than ever.

Uncle Liam chuckled. “How’d you like to move up the totem pole in the business?” 

Adrien knew that being promoted would probably mean more money. He needed money, so he could strike out on his own when he was eighteen and sever ties with Amelie. 

Adrien smiled grimly. “I’d love to, Uncle Liam.”

***

“Adrien Graham de Vanily!” Amelie screamed, catching up to him just as he and Felix were about to leave the manor for school. It was Monday, June sixth, five hundred and twenty-eight days after Adrien had left Paris. “You stop right there!”

“Go ahead, Felix,” Adrien said, raising a brow at his brother. Felix still wasn’t Adrien’s friend, but they tolerated each other. Adrien had even gotten Plagg to stop Cataclysming Felix’s stuff, which went a long way towards improving their relationship. “I’ll catch up.”

Felix nodded and left. Amelie’s eyes flashed as she leaned into Adrien’s space. “Liam says you’re quitting school to join his consulting firm as a full-time employee.”

Adrien leaned back and raised a brow. Amelie’s fits of pique were becoming more and more common, and all Adrien could do was let her rage pass. “That’s news to me, Mother,” he said neutrally. “I have no intention of quitting school. And in fact, I will be taking more college classes over the summer.”

“But you will be working with Liam?” Amelie spat, clenching her tiny fists at her sides. “Over the summer?”

“Over the summer, yes,” Adrien confirmed, shifting his book bag on his shoulder. “Now, if you’re quite done, I’m going to be late, Mother.”

Adrien could swear he saw steam coming out of Amelie’s ears. Her nostrils flared.  
“I indulged you in this flight of fancy because I thought it could be good for you. But now you’re too… too independent!”

Adrien blinked. “Is that a bad thing, Mother?”

Adrien wondered if Amelie would pick up on the fact that he’d been passive-aggressively acknowledging her as ‘Mother’ with everything he’d said to her. Repeatedly using her title was a power move that he’d picked up from sparring with Lila, when they’d each said their names to one another after every cutting sentence.

Amelie pointed a manicured finger at Adrien. He noted absurdly that she’d had her nails done with French tips. Just like Lila. “Liam doesn’t control you. I do. He doesn’t get to take you away from me like this.” Amelie drew a deep breath through her nose and plastered a smile onto her face, speaking sweetly. “You will no longer work at the consulting firm. I withdraw my permission.”

Adrien stared at her, gaping like a codfish. “You can’t do that,” he snarled. “ _Mother._ ”

“Oh, but I can,” she said, her smile dripping with sugar, “and I will.”

Adrien narrowed his eyes at her. “Aunt Amelie, you don’t control me. And you never will.”

Amelie gasped. “Y-You’re no longer my favorite son!” 

Adrien couldn’t help the crooked grin that crept across his lips. “I think I can live with that,” he said and then cleared his throat. “I will no longer speak to you until you reinstate my internship. And you will no longer touch me, ever, unless I initiate it. Have a nice day, Aunt Amelie.”

He strode away, head held high. Amelie stayed stock still in the doorway. “You can’t!” She stomped her foot. “I am a Graham de Vanily! You can’t do this to me!”

Adrien ignored her and entered the sedan to take him to Apex Academy. Felix shook his head as Adrien buckled up. 

“Stick to your guns, Adrien,” Felix muttered, folding his arms across his chest and glaring out the window. “She’ll make your life miserable.”

“She can’t do anything to me,” Adrien said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Knowing Paris was an hour ahead of London and Nino was probably in school, Adrien texted his friend.

 **Me:** I need a favor. A big one. One I can’t cash in until probably December of this year.

Nino got back to him before the ride to school was over, presumably during a break between classes. 

**Nino:** Anything for you, Dude. What’s up?

As the sedan pulled into the drive of the academy, Adrien’s fingers flew over his phone’s keyboard.

 **Me:** Okay, here’s what we’ll do…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [@sing-in-me-oh-muse](https://sing-in-me-oh-muse.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \---
> 
> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this final chapter of Into Your Heart, I'll Beat Again, Adrien returns home.

On December 20th, seven hundred and twenty-six days after he’d left Paris, Adrien returned.

The aromas of the city-- _his_ city--enveloped his nose as he exited the train into Gare du Nord station. Paris smelled of cigarette smoke and urine, but also bread fresh from the oven, soil from various gardens, and crisp, inky newspapers. The Metro had a warm, musky, and slightly rubbery odor, with earthy engines churning up the air. 

He yearned to transform, to bound across the Parisian rooftops and feel the wind in his hair.

“Dude!” Nino caught up to him and enveloped him in a hug. Adrien had grown a couple of inches during his time in London, but Nino had not, so they laughed as they compared heights.

Adrien clung to his friend, who clung back. “Marinette still doesn’t know, right?”

“Nope.” Nino grinned up at Adrien. “I can’t believe you’ve kept your return a secret from her. I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“It’s all thanks to your help, Nino,” Adrien praised, releasing his friend to squeeze his shoulder. “I’m looking forward to seeing the apartment you picked out. Living with you will be awesome.”

“Hey, don’t get too excited.” Nino chortled. The boys started walking towards the front doors of the station. “You’ve never had a roommate before.”

Adrien adjusted his backpack as they crossed the tile floor. “After Felix, you’ll be a breath of fresh air.”

Felix and Adrien had come to a sort of accord before he’d left, and Felix ended up wishing him well. They bonded over Amelie’s attempts to make Adrien’s life miserable. She’d raged at him for weeks and then stopped speaking to him. She’d cajoled, pleaded, and begged. She’d taken Adrien’s phone, his job, and his freedom--but not his dignity. 

Nino wrinkled his nose as he held the door open for his friend. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Sorry.” Adrien chuckled. “He’s not all bad, not anymore.”

“Ugh, he’s brainwashed you.” Nino hailed a cab. “At least you’re away from him and your aunt now. I got your computer in the mail. And all that non-perishable food.” A taxi pulled up, and Nino opened the door for Adrien. “It’s all set up for you in your room.”

“Awesome.” Adrien gave Nino a thumbs up. “And I’m already enrolled in school, and have an internship lined up with the company Uncle Liam recommended me to.”

Adrien was planning to attend the spring semester of ESPCI ParisTech, a university run by the city of Paris focusing on physics and chemistry. His grades from lycee and the Apex Academy were perfect, earning him a tuition waiver and scholarships. All he had to cover was room and board, and he’d saved up a few thousand euros from working with Liam.

Adrien entered the taxi, buckling up and lacing his hands behind his head. Nino sat next to him and fastened his own seatbelt. Adrien smiled at his friend. “Now all I have to do is surprise Marinette.”

“How’s it going down?” Nino cupped his chin in his hand. “And how can I help?”

“Okay, what I need you to do is this…”

***

On Christmas Eve night, Adrien approached Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie and Patisserie on foot. He pushed his way through the snow, wearing his cat ear beanie and his wristbands. A ring--not his Miraculous, but a different ring--burned a hole in his pocket.

Plagg had laughed at him as he was getting ready and donning a pair of orange Converse. Adrien didn’t dress in the same outfit he’d worn during lycee or even a version of it, but he wanted to mimic the shoes. Instead of a suit, like he’d been forced to wear in London, Adrien chose a fitted white T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a black trenchcoat that kept him warm in the chilly December evening.

The outfit was simple because Adrien was just learning what sorts of clothes he liked to wear. He leaned towards cotton and denim.

But he sorely missed the clothes Marinette had made him for his fifty years’ worth of birthdays.

Marinette. He’d wanted to look good for her. He’d picked his outfit based on what he thought she might like.

Just as Adrien had asked, Nino had informed Tom and Sabine of Adrien’s plans. He had asked them to host a party this year with Nino, Alya, and Kagami on the guestlist, only to be told--relayed through Nino--that the Dupain-Chengs were already planning to do that.

Now, as Adrien stood in front of the door to the bakery, mistletoe hanging in the doorway over his head for good luck, anticipation roiled in his gut. He listened to the partygoers singing along with cheery Christmas carols through the closed door and shifted from foot to foot.

“What if it’s been too long, Plagg?” Adrien questioned his trenchcoat’s front pocket, where Plagg sat. His bulbous, black head nearly blended in with the fabric. “What if she’s moved on?”

“You’re talking about Marinette?” Plagg scoffed. “The girl who would die for you?”

“I hope she doesn’t have to.” Adrien’s teeth chattered from nerves rather than cold. A spurt of loud laughter came from inside the bakery. Adrien could see Tom and Sabine and the guests inside, but not Marinette. “But what if we can’t pick up from where we left off? What if our relationship has irrevocably changed? What if I’ve changed?”

“Why are you doubting her now?”

“I’m not.” Adrien wilted. “I’m... I’m doubting myself.”

“Kid,” Plagg said, and Adrien could barely see him frown in the dim light of evening. “You’ve come too far to freak out now. The girl visited you on your birthday. She talked with you practically every night. She made you fifty years’ worth of birthday presents.”

“Which I threw away.”

Plagg growled and continued lambasting him. “She’s your Ladybug, you’re her Chat Noir, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to see my Sugarcube, so suck up your panic and _knock on the darn door._ ”

Adrien smiled crookedly. “You’re right, Plagg. I’m being stupid.”

“You really are.” Plagg rolled his glowing, green eyes. “If you want to find out how Marinette will react, she’s just a knock away.” Plagg grinned. “She’ll probably punch you for not letting her know that you arrived in Paris four days ago.”

Adrien laughed. “You’re probably right.”

He drew a breath through his nose, steadying his jittering nerves. Raising a fist, he held it there for a few moments. 

Plagg poked his head out of the pocket again. “I don’t hear knocking!”

“Sorry.” Adrien swallowed his panic. He was an Agreste. Agrestes never ran from anything. He pounded on the door.

The noise from the party stilled. Someone shut off the music. Adrien heard Nino say, loudly, “Someone’s at the front door. Marinette, why don’t you go and check?”

Adrien held his breath. 

He saw Marinette cross the room through the glass. Her hair was long, left down with red ribbons tied into the strands. Her cheeks were flushed. She wore his Eiffel Tower pendant nestled between her breasts.

She was also wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater he’d ever seen: a red monstrosity with a bedazzled unicorn on the front with fringe down the sleeves styled to look like manes. The sweater made him laugh, breaking his tension. By the time she opened the door, he was smiling.

Her jaw went slack. “A-Adrien?”

“Marine--” Adrien started, but was interrupted by her tackling him and slamming her mouth on his own. He closed his eyes and kissed her back with all the tender ferocity of two years of deprivation. 

He parted his lips when she did, their tongues finding each other’s in a meeting of two playful equals. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him closer. One of Adrien’s hands rested on Marinette’s waist, and the other hand splayed across her back so he could turn them both and dip her low. Her hand threaded through his hair, making him delirious with pleasure.

Then Adrien heard a whooping sound. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Alya filming them and Nino cheering them on. Kagami was standing nearby, smiling sweetly. Adrien straightened, pulling Marinette back up to her feet. Her face was flushed and her lips, pulled back into a huge, cheery grin, were a bold red.

Adrien’s friends converged on him and Marinette, slapping his back and ruffling his hair and gently laying a hand on his shoulder. Her parents approached. Nino, Alya, and Kagami parted from Adrien to make room, so Tom and Sabine could scoop him up off his feet into a massive hug. 

“We’ve missed you, Adrien,” Sabine cooed, patting his back.

“Welcome home, son,” Tom cheered, and tears struck Adrien’s eyes.

“Thank you, Monsieur Dupain, Madame Cheng.” Adrien grunted, feeling comfortably squashed by his two adopted parents. He’d grown a little taller since he was away, and towered over Tom by three full inches, but the man could still easily pick him up and swing him around.

“Call us Tom and Sabine.” Tom laughed and released Adrien to Marinette, whom Adrien was determined to see.

Smiling, Marinette stepped forward, snowflakes dusting her hair and eyelashes. He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles. She looked at him with so much adoration shining in her eyes, he felt his heart pound. “Welcome back, Adrien.”

He stepped closer to her and cupped her cheek, whispering, “It’s good to be back, little mouse.”

But then her face crumpled. Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks, rolling over his fingers. “Oh, no, my Lady, don’t cry,” he murmured, feeling choked up himself. He turned his hand and caught the fat droplets on the backs of his knuckles. “This is a happy time, right?”

“I am happy,” she whimpered. “So happy. But I missed you so much.”

Adrien smiled down at her. He was finally home. “I missed you, too.”

Adrien planned to whip out his present for Marinette, which burned a hole in his pocket, but Alya sidled up to them and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, M, I don’t know about you since you’re wrapped up in your boyfriend, but we’re all freezing out here. Should we move this reunion inside?”

Marinette giggled through sniffles, scrubbing her eyes with the back of one of her wrists. “Yeah, there’s no point in staying outside. Adrien, there’s food in the house. We were just about to start dinner.”

Adrien perked up at the mention of food. He’d just finished unpacking his New New Stash that morning and had gone shopping to fill up his and Nino’s pantry. Adrien had bought an enormous quantity of fresh fruit, which he figured he and Nino could easily eat, being Chat and Carapace respectively.

“Yeah, I could eat.” Adrien grinned. “Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie is my favorite place to eat, after all. Especially on Thursdays.”

Marinette laughed at the inside joke, and the party went inside. 

Tom and Sabine had gone all out in their party decorations. They’d dragged out a giant table and chairs, presumably from storage, and had set it up in the middle of the bakery. Adrien was amused that Tom and Sabine had followed the tradition of knotting the tablecloth, preventing the Devil from getting under the table. The fit was tight with all seven partygoers, but Adrien had never felt more cozy or at home. 

Tom brought out an extra chair for Adrien. The teens helped Sabine set the table while Adrien filled them all in on his time in London, taking great pains to play up Uncle Liam’s effect on him and downplay Felix and Amelie’s. “And then Uncle Liam said, ‘I don’t trust stairs because they’re always up to something.’” 

The family laughed. 

Adrien made sure to devote his individual attention to each of his friends, starting with Kagami. “How are you?” he questioned, giving her a _bisou_ \--a French air cheek kiss--before they sat down at the table. Nino played his Christmas mix for them while they sat, amusing Adrien greatly. Marinette sat next to him and laced her fingers with his. “I’ve missed you, Kagami.”

“I’ve been very well, thank you,” Kagami said, inclining her head in the dignified way she did everything. 

Tom and Sabine served each of the five teens a pear and greens salad and a glass of fine red wine. Adrien scarfed his down with one hand while holding onto Marinette with the other as Kagami continued. “As you know, I placed second in the European Individual Championships in May of last year, and first this year.”

Nino perked up. “That’s awesome, Dudette. I didn’t know that.”

Adrien swallowed his mouthful of greens. “That means you have a shot at the Olympics, right?”

Kagami’s amber eyes sparkled. “That’s right. I’m in training for them next year.”

Adrien grinned at her, whistling. “That’s amazing, Kagami. I always knew you could do it.”

Marinette piped up. “And she’s been a wonderful addition to the team as Ryuuko as well.”

Adrien beamed as Kagami ducked, smiling. Tom and Sabine brought out the next course, a chestnut soup with bacon and chives. Adrien savored the warm, earthy soup, which was creamy with a touch of sweet onion and spicy nutmeg.

Alya pouted, folding her arms. “I still can’t write about any of this on the Ladyblog. I’m running out of material.”

Nino laughed. “You’ll have plenty now that Chat Noir’s back in town.”

“I can’t wait,” Adrien gushed, and he couldn’t. The thought of donning the suit and vaulting over the city he loved thrilled him. After the party tonight, he planned to take Ladybug to the top of the Eiffel Tower and dance with her. Then he’d kiss her senseless, and then maybe have a race across the city, like they used to. 

And patrolling with Rena, Carapace, and Ryuuko would be fun, too. But tonight, Adrien wanted his Lady alone.

He passed a piece of Brillat-Savarin, a soft, delicious cheese, from the cheese board to his pocket. From the snuffled sounds emanating from his trenchcoat, he figured Plagg approved. Adrien next passed him a wedge of camembert, which Tom and Sabine had thoughtfully included. 

The other teens also surreptitiously fed their kwamis, Adrien noticed. Longg appeared to eat smoked salmon and oysters, which was the next course Tom and Sabine served, along with bran bread and butter. Wayzz ate some bamboo Nino had brought with him. Trixx ate from the next course after the salmon--herb-roasted goose--and Tikki, of course, ate bites of each of the thirteen desserts--including the yule log, a sponge cake decorated with chocolate and chestnuts. 

There was more than enough food for the two adults, the five kwamis, and the five superhero teens with their enhanced metabolisms.

And they chatted. After Adrien mentioned the school he’d be attending in the spring, Alya explained her plans to attend CELSA, a renowned school of journalism in Paris. 

“Nino’s going to film school, so of course I have to go to school for journalism!” she exclaimed, gesturing excitedly with both hands. “And I’ve been assigned the police beat for my news internship!”

“Congratulations, Alya!” Adrien’s eyes widened. “That’s awesome!”

Marinette giggled at his side, and warmth bloomed behind Adrien’s breastbone. He’d missed her. He’d missed all of them, and he could hardly believe that he was back.

As traditional for a French Christmas feast, the dinner took six hours. Adrien ate his fill and then some, sitting back in his chair and patting his distended belly as the meal wound down.

It was Marinette’s turn to explain what she’d been up to, though she seemed shy about her accomplishments, and Adrien didn’t know why. “It’s true,” she was saying, color dusting her cheeks. “I did land an internship with Isabel Marant.”

“That’s great, little mouse!” Overjoyed, Adrien kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, a brief peck that promised more later. 

Gosh, he wanted to kiss her. She was adorable--blushy and beautiful--touching her parted lips. 

“I am so proud of my girl, Adrien, you have no idea,” Alya enthused, grinning at the two of them. “You’ve worked so hard for this, M.”

Nino chuckled. “And you’ll do great, Marinette.” He grinned. “You’ll do amazing.”

“Agreed,” Kagami said, raising her wine glass. “A toast to all our successes.” 

The friends and family toasted, their voices layering over each others’. 

“Hear, hear!”

“Yes, a toast!”

“Our achievements deserve to be celebrated.”

They all clinked glasses and drank from them.

“Adrien,” Tom called, smiling down at him as the man approached the boy’s chair with a bowl of golden-wrapped bonbons. “Would you like a papillote?” 

“Thank you, Tom!” Adrien gladly plucked up one of the after-dinner treats. He opened the crinkly paper and an unmistakably bittersweet fragrance wafted out: chocolate ganache. Checking the message written inside the sparking paper with fringed edges, he smiled as he read it aloud. “‘Love surrounds you.’”

Marinette’s smile crinkled her eyes. “It does,” she agreed, placing a kiss on his cheek. “We all love you, Adrien.”

“Marinette.” Adrien turned to her. He reached his hand into his pocket, and Plagg pressed the ring into his hand. “I have something to give you.”

A hush fell over the table. Marinette blinked up at him as he took her hand. He slid the ring onto the ring finger of her right hand, next to the one on her pinky that he’d given her for her birthday two years ago. The new loop fit perfectly, as Adrien had asked Sabine what her daughter’s ring size was. 

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Is… Is this…”

Adrien brushed his lips against her knuckles. “It’s a promise ring.” He stared deeply into her bluebell eyes. “A ring to swear that I’ll be by your side forever. I’m never leaving you again.”

The ring was simple, a silver band engraved with ‘you and me against the world.’

Marinette blinked away tears. She threw her arms around Adrien’s neck, grinding her nose into his shoulder and cupping the back of his head. He quickly embraced her back, threading his fingers through her long, silky hair that he enjoyed touching so very much. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, and he whispered back, “You’re welcome.”

Then Nino started a chant, which was quickly taken up by the rest of the table. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Marinette pulled back, blushing. She tilted her head up, lips slightly pursed. Adrien met her lips with a smile, cupping her cheeks and giving her a closed-mouth, chaste kiss. 

That kiss, too, was a promise. They would always be together, and he’d do everything in his power to keep them that way. He’d never leave her behind again. He’d love her with everything he had in him, taking care of her and letting her nurture him. 

He wanted to marry her someday. That ring, and that kiss, were promises of his desire to marry her, too.

Their friends and family cheered, and Adrien broke the kiss, his cheeks warm and his heart happy. Marinette looked up at him with passion swimming in her eyes. Adrien drowned in it, letting her adoration wash over him.

He kissed her again. She kissed back.

Wrapped up in the intimacy of the moment, of the shared tenderness between the people he loved, Adrien’s heart soared. Bolstered by Marinette’s affection and that of his friends and family, Adrien felt he could take on the world.

He was home. He would never leave. 

Adrien Agreste stayed with Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the people who loved him…

And never went hungry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my readers:
> 
> Thank you. Thank you for coming along with me on this journey. 
> 
> I never intended to write Crash. I woke up one morning at 4:30am with an idea and a song stuck in my head. 60k words in six days later, this series was born. I recognized while writing chapter 5 of Crash that there would be loose ends that needed tied up, so Fight was born. Then I realized that Fight didn't cover Gabriel's take down, so Heart was born, about the 5th chapter of Fight. 
> 
> I have been cheered by this welcoming community and the community of the Miraculous Fanworks' Discord server (link below). A special thank you to my betas, Rikka and Sibby, for sticking with me and replacing my saids (links to Sibby's work below). I've had long conversations about my stories and the directions I was taking them with readers that have warmed my heart. Everyone here is wonderful, as is everyone on the server. 
> 
> As for the next direction in my writing, I'm working on an original piece based off of an MLB Witch AU fanfiction called Must Be the Season of the Witch. I've got about 30k out of 90k written on it, and plan to submit the story to agents that represent fantasy after sending it through my writing group for edits. With any luck and perseverance, Witch will be published, and I'll be linking it to you. 
> 
> But as for fics, I'm planning to finish the 3rd and final chapter of [Chat Loaf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25987975?view_full_work=true), a cat tendencies fic. I'll be working on a second Choose Your Own Adventure installment (find part one [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778927/chapters/59917942)) and a Sleeping Beauty Ladrien AU for the server's retell-a-classic event in February. I also have several one shots in the works, especially deleted scenes for the Spark series, so keep an eye out for those.
> 
> My Fics to Write list is literally 10 pages long. I'm not going anywhere. :)
> 
> Thank you again. Thank you for cheering me on in my writing journey and enjoying my work from April 2020 to December 2020. I appreciate each and every one of you and hope that the ending to the Spark series was everything you wanted it to be.
> 
> Catch you on the flip side.
> 
> -Cass
> 
> ___
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at [@sing-in-me-oh-muse](https://sing-in-me-oh-muse.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \---
> 
> Let's all give a warm welcome to my wonderful beta reader, Sibby! Sibby is looking over Heart for me, starting in chapter 13, and has already helped me improve my writing. I’m grateful to her for offering to beta for me!
> 
> Sibby is a fantastic writer with an eye for replacing my saids, and I very much appreciate her skills in both betaing and writing. She has one current story for MLB, Hear You Me, a deliciously angsty Lukanette band AU where Luka goes on tour with Kitty Section and Marinette is their seamstress. Beautifully written, very emotional. 
> 
> Check it out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679056/chapters/62344828
> 
> Three cheers for Sibby!
> 
> \--- 
> 
> Are you interested in reading or writing fanfiction? Are you looking for a community of like-minded and supportive people? Then join the [Miraculous Fanworks](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks) Discord server! 
> 
> We are always welcoming new members, and would love to see you. We offer a variety of conversations, from fic discussions to writing support to fanfiction prompts. We even have server-wide events and group writing projects! 
> 
> Come join today!


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